


Blood Harvest

by NappingStabbingBlooking



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Be patient, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bisexual Sam Winchester, Biting, Blood, Bloodlust, Bloodthirsty Sam, Bullying, Dean Needs A Hug, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, First Time, Gay Castiel, How to Tag 101, Human Castiel, Human Crowley, Human Gabriel, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Love, M/M, Pansexual Gabriel, Physical Abuse, Sabriel - Freeform, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Loathing Dean, Sick Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, but the smut comes later, highschool!au, i'll attempt to add more tags later, john winchester is a dick, nerd!Castiel, ok pretty much everyone is human except Sam and Dean, vampire!Dean, vampire!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:45:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5538641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NappingStabbingBlooking/pseuds/NappingStabbingBlooking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a hunt gone wrong, young Sam and Dean are captured and turned into vampires. John Winchester, unable to kill his sons, instead disowns his children and leaves them in Sioux Falls for their uncle Bobby to look after them. </p><p>For Sam, it's almost a dream come true. He gets to lead a mostly-normal life- finish up high school, make plans for college, and best of all, no more hunting- but the uncontrollable thirst for human blood leaves him hand cuffed to the bedpost every night. </p><p>For Dean, it's his worst nightmare. He's become one of the monsters he's hunted all his life, and Dean can barely stomach animal blood, yet he still refuses to drink human blood. </p><p>And when the Winchesters meet the Novaks, chaos ensues. But could something good come out of this horrific nightmare? </p><p>AKA The vampire trash Sabriel and Destiel fanfic no one asked for</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Complicated Life of Sam Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone who gave this poor trashy fanfic a chance! I'm going to try and keep this simple short but first of all, this is the first Supernatural fanfic I've posted online (god bless this sinful heart) and the first smut I've ever written (although the smut comes a lot later; I've never been a fan of porn without plot) soooo please bare with me! I have an awful habit of starting stories and never finishing them but I have a good feeling about this one. Let me know if you like it or hate it, all criticism accepted! Also, I marked this as Underage since everyone is kind of in highschool so hopefully it's not too big of a deal to anyone. I will be posting warnings at the beginnings of kind of gruel chapters, so anyone with trigger problems or whatever, be careful to read the tags and warnings I leave for y'all! God bless ur hearts alright ok 
> 
> Hugs and Kisses,  
> NappingStabbingBlooking

Sam woke with a kink in his neck. The tall boy groaned, one hand reaching up to clutch his head, which was pounding terribly. 

The second thing he registered was the hunger in his stomach. Sam jerked to stand up from his sprawled position, but instantly found something was holding him back. 

Sam snarled, tugging at his wrist harder, his knuckles turning white as he strained against the handcuffs. 

Sam was just about to tear his wrist to get out of the handcuffs when the light flicked on, and Sam flung an arm over his eyes. "Dean," Sam protested weakly, and something was pressed into his hand. 

"Last one, Sammy. I can't get more for a little while, so make it last," his brother said gruffly, slapping something down on the counter and flicking the light off and closing the bathroom door on the way out. Sam could hear the disgust in his brother's voice, but at the moment he couldn't care less. 

Sam sniffed the bag and let out an animalistic growl, feeling his fangs creep from his gums. Despite Dean's warning, Sam tore open the blood bag, unable to control himself, and downed the whole transfusion within seconds. 

Immediately after consumption, Sam began to feel better. Without the hunger clouding his vision, Sam came to with a groan. Sam brought a hand to his teeth to feel for his fangs, and they retracted back into his gums. 

Then, Sam finally looked around. 

He was on the bathroom floor, cuffed to the sink pipes. 

Again. 

He must've gone just a hint too long without blood. 

Correction: he must've gone too long without human blood. 

The angry throbbing in his head confirmed that either Dean or Bobby had knocked him out. 

Sam stared numbly at the empty, ripped blood bag, taking a few moments to compose himself. He then picked up the bag and lapped the remaining drops of blood with his tongue, felt along the top of the counter for the key that Dean left him, and unlocked himself from the handcuffs, dropping both the handcuffs and the key on the counter.

Sam stared at himself in the mirror. Blood was smeared across his face, on his hands and spilled over on the front of his shirt. His upper lip twitched and Sam wiped his mouth with his sleeve, growing distressed as the blood spread messily across his body. 

With a shaky hand, Sam turned on the shower faucet and dutifully stripped off his shirt, jeans, and boxers, noticing blood stains on each article of clothing. When he sniffed, he could detect not just the blood he consumed, but mixtures of his own blood, Dean's, and even Bobby's. Sam must've really put up a fight this time around. 

Despite being a junior in high school, Sam stood almost face to face with the shower head, and had to hunch over a bit to wash his long hair properly. He watched as the blood washed away pink, scraping away flecks of some of the brownish dried blood from his face. 

Finally, after the initial shock of everything, Sam was feeling back to himself under the hot water, and allowed himself to feel actual emotions. 

Sam was nervous. 

He made sure to wash himself thoroughly, shampoo his hair twice over, and once he was done, he wrapped a towel around his waist and spent a little longer deciding what to wear today, staring in the mirror as he attempted to fix his hair. 

And that's when Dean burst into the room, as Sam was trying desperately to get his hair to lie flat. 

"What are you, a girl?" Dean grinned, and Sam felt instant relief. Whatever happened last night, Dean didn't seem too upset about it. He probably blamed himself more than me, Sam thought with a frown. 

"Come on, you're going to be late for your big day," Dean ruffled his younger brother's hair, who scowled back at him and attempted to fix it again. 

"We," Sam quickly corrected, following Dean out of his bedroom and down the stairs. "Our big day. Can you believe it, Dean? We're actually going to school for real this time. We get to go to an actual first day of school." 

Dean rolled his eyes as he grabbed the keys to an old pick up truck Bobby let Dean fix up and keep. It was no '67 Impala, but it had four wheels and moved, so that was enough for the brothers. Sam looked around in the kitchen- Bobby was probably out back in the shop. 

Sam was just about to open the front door when the knob twisted and there stood Bobby, crossing his arms. "Leaving without a goodbye?" He asked, surly. "Now you boys don't get into any trouble, you here me?" Sam nodded vigorously, as if the idea of trouble had never crossed his mind, and Dean stood up straight like a soldier. "Wouldn't dream of it, old man." 

Despite Bobby's rough demeanor, he gave both Sam and Dean a hug before they stepped out of Bobby's home in South Dakota, Sioux Falls. 

Sam flipped his hood up and followed Dean out the door and into the rain to Dean's old pickup. 

\---

While they were driving, Sam couldn't contain his excitement. 

"First, I have English with Mrs. Helms in class 207- but I've never had an English class first thing in the morning so I'm not sure how well that will work out, and then-" 

Dean slowly tuned out Sam and turned up the radio, blasting the old classic rock he had come to love. 

Sam continued rambling on about each and every one of his classes- not that Dean didn't already memorize them incase of any emergencies- but then stopped, suddenly aware that Dean had stopped listening long ago. 

Sam made a bitch face and punched Dean in the arm. 

"Ow! What the hell, Sam??" Dean scowled at his brother and rubbed his arm. "That would have broken a normal guy's arm!" 

Dean and Sam sat in silence, and the older started simmering angrily at his words. 

Sam stared at his brother, and Dean didn't look back until stopped at the next red light, rolling his eyes at his brother. 

"Aren't you happy we get to be actual high schoolers for once?" Sam had the courage to ask. 

Dean slapped the wheel of the pickup truck as the wheels spun out on the slippery roads. "That's the thing. We aren't actual high schoolers, Sammy! We're freaking va--" Dean cut off sullenly, as if he didn't want to state the fact out loud. "We're monsters, damn it. Other people are not safe around us. Especially around you, Sam." 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Sam jumped as if he had been poked with a hot cattle brand, glaring viciously at Dean. 

"You know exactly what it means," Dean snapped back, pulling into the school parking lot and stopping in a park rather jerkily, yanking the keys out of the ignition. 

"Why can't you just be happy for once? We've been given a chance to make out a fairly normal life. It's better than what most hunters get! Better than what Dad got!" 

Sam reached for the car door, but before Sam could storm out of the vehicle, Dean locked the car doors and grabbed his brother's wrist. 

"Are you going to be okay today?" Dean asked Sam, with a serious, thick air in his voice. "Answer truthfully." 

"What? Yeah, Dean, I'm fine!" Sam ripped his wrist from Dean's grasp, fumbled with the locks, and slammed the car door in Dean's face, stalking towards the school building with his bag thumping on his back. 

Dean hopped out of the car and followed him quickly, lowering his voice to a whisper. "No, I mean did you get enough... to drink?" 

"What, you think I'm going drain the first person I get my hands on?" Sam nearly yelled. Realization dawned on Sam, and he stopped so suddenly he felt like he had suddenly been frozen to the ground. 

Sam shot a small glance in Dean's direction, a haunted look in the younger's eyes. "Not again, Dean. Never again. I'm fine." 

And with that, Sam walked up to the school to leave Dean behind in the rain. 

\---

Sam walked into his first class, water dripping from his hair and about seven seconds late, interrupting whatever the teacher had been saying beforehand, and Sam felt every pair of eyes in the class fall on him. Someone snickered. 

"Have a seat," the teacher said coldly, and Sam steeled himself as he slid into one of the open desks at the front, his heart pounding in embarrassment, nervousness, and anger still from Dean. 

"Hello, class. My name is Don Johnson, but you will all call me Mr. Johnson or Mr. J. I will be passing out a syllabus shortly after I take attendance," the teacher explained shortly, with no room for the students to argue. 

Sam quickly zoned out as the teacher began calling names, too busy reflecting his argument with Dean to attempt to make new friends around him. 

Suddenly, Mr. Johnson was done with attendance, and Sam blinked a few times when he realized the teacher had not called his name. Something was off about the class but Sam couldn't quite put his finger on it. His argument with Dean had really distracted him. 

"Today, we will be hopping right into an easy intro to Economics. Can anyone explain to me what scarcity is?" 

"Mr. Johnson?" 

The teacher's eyes narrow as he is interrupted twice by the tall student. "Yes, what is it...?" The teacher cast a glance at the attendance sheet as he attempted to remember the name of the student in front of him. 

"Uh, Sam Winchester," the teen mumbled. "You didn't call my name off the paper." 

The teacher practically stalked off to check the computer, and after a few scrolls and clicks, he said, "That's because you're in the wrong class. This is room 107, Intro to Economics." 

Sam stood quickly, his chair scraping the floor in a horrid fashion as people around him began to whisper, and Sam felt a prickle of sweat bead at the back of his neck. Sam snuck a peak behind his shoulder and surveyed the classroom. 

Some kids were obviously making fun of him in the back, and some looked half asleep. Sam's over sensitive hearing could pick up every jibe being made about him.  
One kid was leaning dangerously back on his chair with his feet kicked up on his desk, looking happily zoned out. A lollipop stuck out of the corner of his mouth. Sam faced the teacher once more, his shoulders hunched self consciously. 

Finally, Mr. Johnson decided to show some mercy. "I see you're new here, Sam. And your schedule shows you have this class next period. We don't get a lot of new faces around here, so I'll let you off the hook this time. Gabriel-" 

There was a loud crash, followed by a yelp of, "I'm okay!" 

Sam whipped around just in time to see the blonde- no, golden haired kid who had been leaning back in his chair before scrambling to detangle himself from his chair. 

Everyone was laughing and pointing, and some had even taken their phones out to record it, but despite the situation the guy grinned and laughed as well, his face flustered as he finally got up and brushed himself off. 

As soon as the class settled down, Mr. Johnson sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Gabriel, please show Sam where his real class is- and be back in no more than five minutes!"

The kid- or, Gabriel, Sam should think, pouted, his bottom lip showing dark pink as it stuck out. "But mom," he whined, and the teacher cut him off before he could get started. 

"No. You will call me Mr. Johnson, and you will be back in now 4 and a half minutes or else you'll be staying here after school. Do you understand, Novak? Oh, and get that candy out of my classroom. No food or drinks." 

Gabriel Novak stood up straight and answered, "Yes Sir, Mr. Johnson Sir!" He promptly spun around and marched out of the classroom, and Sam didn't miss the wink he gave to the pretty girl in the front row, who instantly blushed. 

When Sam finally got out of the classroom, he let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, following Gabriel into the hallway. 

"Hey, I'm Sam," the teen announced rather awkwardly, and Gabriel gave him a quizzical look and a reply of, "I know." 

Despite seeming to be a very talkative and friendly guy, Gabriel ignored Sam most of the trip, and a suffocating silence filled the halls except for two pairs of footsteps. 

"Here's your class," Gabriel stopped so suddenly that Sam bumped into the shorter student, and Sam caught an overwhelming aroma that nearly had him falling over in bliss. 

Candy. Chocolate. Sugar, sweets, sours, and every flavor of jelly bean ricocheted around Sam's brain.

Now, Sam had scented an abundance of things in his life time, yet if his time as a vampire taught him anything, it was that no one should take the five senses lightly. 

Noises as small as the scratch of a pencil on the other side of the class were audible, and while Sam could see the flecks of green in Dean's eyes at night, light could be unbearable. 

But smell... Smell was everything.

And Gabriel smelled like heaven. 

Sam stared, dumbfounded, at the golden haired student, who raised an eyebrow at him, while popped the red (cherry?) lollipop from his mouth and twirled it with his thumb and index finger. 

"Sorry. Thanks," Sam choked out, backing away from the intoxicating scent that was Gabriel. He felt like he was melting in his own shoes. A few more seconds standing here with this golden god and Sam wasn't sure he'd be able to control himself. 

Gabriel took a step closer to Sam and opened the door to the classroom, and finally, finally a mischievous grin filled his face, and Sam practically felt himself swoon.

"No problem, Sammy." 

And with a waggle of his eyebrows and a small wave, Gabriel was gone, leaving Sam clutching at the bottom of his jacket, taking shallow breaths through his mouth.


	2. Gold for Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! I have to apologize for anything I might do wrong. I haven't posted on this website before so I'm still finding my way around. Anyways, enjoy chapter two!  
> Hugs and Loves,  
> NappingStabbingBlooking

Sam was day-dreaming, with his head in his hand and his eyes gazing out the window. And no doubt, it was about candy, sweets, and the color of gold. 

He could hardly pay attention to the teacher (which was completely out of character for him) who was his first period English professor, Mrs. Helms. While she was a very nice lady, she had mortified Sam by asking him to tell the class three facts about himself since he was new to the school. 

"Um, my name is Sam Winchester," he said meekly under all the eyes of the students. His mind went blank as he attempted to scrounge up two more facts about himself that was okay to tell the class. I mean, you couldn't really go around telling people you used to hunt monsters- and that you are one of them. That pretty much made up his whole life- and Sam was determined to change that, if he could. 

Meanwhile, awkward silence filled the room, until the teacher finally saved him. "And where did you live before you moved here, Sam?" Mrs. Helms asked kindly. 

Sam felt the need to lie compulsively, with thirty sets of eyes watching him, yet he held his ground and explained warily, "All over, sort of. My dad had a job that had us move around a lot, so I've lived practically everywhere in the U.S. My brother and I came here to live with our Uncle Bobby at his Salvage Yard, and we're here to hopefully finish up high school." 

Sam felt as if a large weight had lifted off his shoulders, and Sam allowed himself a smile. Things would be okay. 

"And umm... My favorite color is... Gold?" Sam narrowed his eye brows. He definitely tried to say green, but last minute his mouth betrayed him. Damn it. 

"That's very nice, Sam. Please take a seat. Today is an easy day since all we're doing is reading through the syllabus and doing a few ice breakers." 

So Sam took the only open seat, which was in the front and thankfully right next to the window, and Sam spent the next half hour staring out at the clouds while dreaming of anything sweet or sour. 

Until, an awkward cough interrupted Sam's sudden sinful lust for candy. 

"You dropped this," a deep, gravely voice ground out, and Sam startled, not expecting the voice's owner to be contained by a small, nerdy kid with large black framed glasses. 

Sam stared at the other student, who coughed again, shaking his extended hand which currently held Sam's pencil. It must've slipped from his hand at some point. 

"Thanks," Sam said, taking the pencil and placing it safely on his desk. The kid gave a single nod and turned back to study the sheet of paper on his desk very intently, but Sam could tell by the way his eyes weren't moving that he was not reading it. 

And that's when Sam noticed the barrage of bracelets around the guy's wrist, all colorful and bright with different insignias. Sam's eyes practically lit up as he tugged on one of the rubbery loops. "You a Game of Thrones fan?" 

The dark haired student pulled his wrist away from Sam quickly, but after a stiff couple of seconds, the teen finally smiled lightly and nodded politely. 

"My brother and I just started the show, but we're hooked." 

"Have you seen the episode where-" 

"Don't spoil it!" Sam covered his ears with his hands until he got the other to promise not to say a word about the show. 

"My name is Sam, Winchester. What's yours?" Sam held out a hand, to which the other student grasped firmly, fixing his crooked glasses with the other hand. 

"Castiel Novak." 

"It's good to meet you, Castiel," Sam said slowly, trying to pinpoint what was familiar about Castiel's name. Sam shrugged and broke out in a grin, and Castiel mirrored Sam's practically contagious smile. 

Mrs. Helms checked with the class quickly to tell them if they were done with reading the syllabus, they could go ahead and talk for the rest of the period, so that's exactly what Sam and Castiel did. 

The two hit it off very quickly, despite Castiel being very awkward and shy, and it turned out the red head Charlie Bradbury who sat behind Sam was a good friend of Castiel's. She couldn't help but overhear and interject her opinion of their shared loathing for the prequel movies of Star Wars. 

Sam learned that Castiel's favorite color was green (just like Sam's before the Gabriel incident) and that he rescued a kitten last winter from freezing to death. 

Sam told Castiel and Charlie that his favorite animal was the dog, and that he had a very bossy, loud and obnoxious older brother. 

Howrver, Charlie talked the most just about everything and anything, yet Sam and Castiel always had something to say about her random topics. 

The bell rang and Sam left the class, absolutely elated that he had made two new friends who had agreed to find him and sit with him at lunch, pushing his thoughts and urges of the color gold to the very back of his mind. 

\---

The motel ceiling was leaking. Three people sat quietly, listening to the drip, drip, drip of the rain water filtering through the dirty roof and down into a stray bucket. 

John Winchester drained the last of his flask, standing up so quick he swayed and almost fell back down again as black spots filled his vision. 

"Now's a good a time as any, boys," John drunkenly slurred, and both Sam and Dean stood up from their shared motel bed. Dean grabbed their already-packed bags full of dead man's blood and a full armory's worth of machetes, and took them out to the car. 

Sam, however, stayed, a twisted look on his face. "Dad, you're drunk," he said, a slight tremor in his voice. 

John Winchester crossed the room in a second, looming over his son. "What the hell did I just say?? Get out in the car, Sam," the older hunter said dangerously, but Sam didn't back down, standing only a little taller. 

"Tonight is a bad idea, John," Sam practically spat out. "They know we're here, and it's nighttime. They have a huge advantage and bigger numbers. I've already called Bobby; we need to wait for more backup." 

Sam saw the fist before he registered the pain. It was more shock that Sam felt as he realized his own father had hit him. Sam brought a hand to his nose and hot blood came back on his fingers. 

"I can't have you let me loose this opportunity Sam. We've been trailing this singular nest for months and after finally catching up to them, you want us to wait? We know where they are, we strike now. Get in the god damn car, or so help me Samuel..." 

Sam turned briskly away, slamming the motel door shut as he walked out, passing Dean who had been standing outside the doorway, witnessing it all. 

\---

Dean entirely skipped his first period. Who needed math anyways? It wasn't like he'd be able to pass it. He always sucked at math. It was always Sam who was the math whizz. 

Dean loathed himself as he locked himself away in the bathroom stall, waiting out his first period, when a thought occurred to him. Why even go to school at all? It was Sam who wanted to be the big shot, and go to college. No, Dean needed to volunteer more at the local blood bank, maybe even try to get a job as a janitor or some sort of receptionist at a hospital. If he would ever go to college, he would go to train as an EMT or maybe a CNA. A job where he could get his hands on blood transfusions easily.  
Anything to get his hands on more blood bags for his brother. 

Dean swayed with a sudden feeling of nauseousness, pulling his backpack onto his lap with trembling fingers. He quickly grabbed the thermos in his backpack and downed the last of the disgusting, bitter contents: animal blood. 

Despite being turned for nearly six months, Dean still refused to have a drop of human blood. To a vampire, that was like a death sentence of starvation. While animal blood would keep a vampire alive, it lacked the nutrients and nourishment needed to keep a vampire healthy, and Dean had begun to feel a little worse for wear. 

Seconds after downing the blood, Dean was puking it back up and into the toilet he had been sitting on the lid of moments ago. Letting out a quiet groan, Dean wiped his mouth, flushed the toilet, and sat back down. 

It was determination that kept him going- that kept him from becoming the monster he had been turned into. He would never, ever, for the rest of his pitiful life as a malnourished vampire, take the blood of a human being. No matter how damn good it smelled. 

It was the school bell that interrupted Dean's self-hatred and loathing. He quickly unlocked the stall he had camped out in, checking himself twice in the mirror to make sure he had really cleaned himself up from the blood earlier, and left the bathroom. 

Dean walked down the school halls, avoiding other students as casually as one that was planning to skip school on the first day could. He suddenly remembered he needed to drop by his locker to leave all of his heavy textbooks where they would stay for the rest of the school year, doing what they do best: gathering dust. 

He finally found his locker right when the second bell rang, and was quickly dumping the contents of his backpack into the locker haphazardly when a large commotion broke out behind him. 

Opposite of him, a poor nerdy looking student was attempting to gather supplies for his next class, while being harassed by two considerably larger students. He looked like a lower class man- like fresh meat for older students. 

Dean was going to walk past when he saw the slim, creepy one slam the kid against the lockers, and the victim lost his glasses in the exchange. The other gooney took the opportunity to crush the lenses beneath his feet. 

Dean couldn't ignore the tears that welled up in those shockingly blue eyes, blinking rapidly to try and cover the fact he was seconds from spilling tears. 

"Hey, don't you guys have some other poor helpless kid to beat up on?" Dean asked sarcastically, walking towards the two menaces.

The one that slammed the nerd against the lockers stepped forward, amused at Dean's interjection. "Nahh, Cassie here is a personal favorite of ours. My name's Alister, and this is Azazel. Pleased to make your acquaintance! We could use a new team player now and again. Care to join us?" Alister held out a hand, and Dean pointedly stared at it until Alister drew it back after a few tense seconds. 

Meanwhile, 'Cassie' or whoever was attempting to gather the remaining pieces of his glasses and fallen papers, and Azazel took the opportunity to deliver a sharp kick to the kid's stomach, who let out a pitiful yip of pain, and Dean promptly responded by delivering a quick punch to Azazel's nose and knocked Alister to his feet before either could react. 

The dark haired, blue eyed kid watched in awe as Dean helped gathered the rest of his stuff and helped up the younger student, who stuttered out a small, "Thank you." 

"Whatever," Dean muttered, beginning to walk away from the scene. Both bullies were still trying to recover from the hits, and Dean didn't want to be around when the teachers found them. He already made a handful of enemies today, and he didn't need to be caught beating up other students on the first day. 

Small footsteps followed him down the hall, much to Dean's distaste. 

"Do you need something?" Dean asked sarcastically, turning around to meet those damn droopy sad blue eyes. The glasses sat broken on his face, and he looked absolutely pitiful. 

The kid paused, as if contemplating, and opened his mouth to say something but Dean held up his hand rudely. "Rhetorical question. I don't care. Stop following me and go to class." 

Dean whipped back around before he could see those eyes get any sadder, or his shoulders hunch any further. But Dean swore, he couldn't let himself get close to anyone. The nerd didn't deserve to be friends with a monster- he needed to find a nice girlfriend or something. 

And most of all, Dean didn't deserve to even look at such a pretty face. Dean could already imagine all the bad things that would happen to him if he- or anyone- found out about the supernatural. Dean wouldn't let anyone into his life just to watch them be torn apart by monsters like him. 

So Dean did his best to ignore the hot feeling of the dark haired teen's eyes boring on the back of his head and left the school building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped y'all like it! Chapter three might take a little while to come out since I'm having a particularily hard time writing it but I hope you guys can be a little patient.  
> Goodnight Everybody!


	3. Sam Winchester the Giant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! We have a bit of a doozy of a chapter this time around so sorry for not updating quickly. I hope y'all are liking this story so far! It's not exactly quality since I don't have a beta looking over my work (and this story is trash anyways so excuuuse me) but enjoy chapter three anyways! Or, don't.  
> Hugs and Smiles,  
> NappingStabbingBlooking
> 
> Edit: holy crap oops I just realized I duplicated this chapter in itself or something. Sorry anyone who got confused reading this chapter ;-; i'll try to edit better

Sam walked through the halls, following the masses of students as they headed to where he thought might be the lunch room. It was after third period, and school had been smooth sailing so far. He still had yet to run into Dean or Gabriel, which brought bittersweet feelings to his heart.

No matter what he did, Sam could not get the golden haired student out of his thoughts. Despite his love for all things healthy, or 'rabbit food' as Dean called it, Sam was dying for a lollipop or maybe some chocolate. 

It was safe to say that Sam was harboring a small, tiny crush on the guy. Minuscule. It wasn't even a crush! Just a... Minor affection. Definitely not a crush. 

Sam's thoughts were quickly shut down as he erupted into the lunch room, quickly feeling overwhelmed. He could hear every voice and sound in the loud room, and he quickly took a few calm breaths as he tried to focus on only the voices around him. 

Almost instantly, Sam heard someone calling his name, and he pinpointed a table in the far corner with a few familiar faces. 

Grinning, Sam headed over and waved at his two new friends, and shyly at a few other faces he didn't recognize. 

"Heya, Sam!" Charlie beckoned to him, pulling out the empty chair next to her, which Sam slid into gratefully. 

"Hey, Charlie. Cas-" Sam cut off in alarm. "Castiel, what happened to your glasses??" 

Castiel looked miserable. His broken glasses sat on the table in front of him. One lens was completely missing- probably shattered, and the other was majorly cracked. One of the arms was detached completely and the frames were bent terribly. 

"Alister and Azazel happened," Castiel ground out. "I guess since Luci-- uh, Luke left, Crowley took over. We are not on good terms," Castiel said hesitantly. 

"Yeah, at least with your brother around, they left you alone for the most part. Luke wasn't such a bad dude. Crowley, however, hates your guts, so I wouldn't put it past him to make your life hell here till he graduates," the girl across the table said unsympathetically. She had dark hair and wore all black. She was dressed in a leather jacket and the helmet sitting on the table suggested she rode a motorcycle. 

Castiel made a grotesque face, as if something the girl said didn't sit well with him. He went back to quietly eating from a small bag of chips on his lap. 

"Way to put him at ease, Meg," Jo called sarcastically, and the girl shrugged. 

"It's true. Besides, the only reason Crowley and his goonies bother you is because you don't stand up for yourself. Friendly reminder that Crowley hates me almost as much as he hates you, yet he hasn't laid a finger on me in years," Meg said almost proudly, and Sam's head reeled trying to keep up with the conversation. 

"What are you guys talking about?" Sam asked warily, fidgeting in his seat. He felt a little distracted in the large cafeteria, as he realized he couldn't scent or hear Dean among the voices of all the students. 

The whole table fell silent, and it was as if the other few kids who sat there didn't notice Sam until just that moment. 

"Sorry, Sam," Charlie coughed, and cleared her throat. "Forgot you were new here... And uh, sorry, but we might of doomed your reputation by letting you sit with us." 

Before Sam could say anything, Charlie quickly went on. "Welcome to the table of Wallflowers! Meet Castiel, the Shy Nerd, Meg Masters, the Goth-" 

"Rebel," Meg coughed, to which Charlie rolled her eyes. "Not goth." 

"Whatever. That's Ash, the Computer Geek, and his poor bestie Jo Harvelle who would be considered normal if she didn't hang out with us freaks." The two friends gave half assed waves, too busy watching whatever was on Ash's laptop to join in the conversation. 

"And last but definitely not least, mwah, the Lesbian." Charlie pointed at herself and slumped in her seat, sighing dramatically. "We should have told you when we first met you. We're the outcasts. You'll be lucky if anyone outside of this table talks to you now. I only wonder what you'll be dubbed. Sam Winchester the New Kid? Sam Winchester the Giant?" 

Charlie heaved another heavy sigh, but Sam reached out and patted her shoulder in a sign of comfort. "It doesn't matter, I seem to end up at this table at every school I've ever attended. Which would be a lot. And I wouldn't have it any other way," Sam said truthfully, and Charlie gave Sam a grateful smile, and surprised Sam by reaching over to give him a one armed hug. 

"And uhh... If it's any consolation... I'm not exactly as straight as a pole," Sam dared say, knowing damn well you had to be careful with who you told personal things to. 

Charlie punched him in the shoulder gently, although Sam knew even if she punched him as hard as she could it wouldn't hurt him. "Everyone's a little bit gay," she joked. "Like Castiel here! Except, he's not a little bit gay- more like full gay." 

Castiel looked absolutely mortified at Charlie's outburst. Angrily, he quickly grabbed his tray and left the table without another word. 

"Wait up!" Meg threw a dirty look at Charlie and grabbed her helmet off the table and followed him, slinging her black backpack on one of her shoulders. 

Charlie shook her head, and Sam watched, unsure of what had just transpired. "Is he okay?" Sam asked, concerned. 

"Yeah, he's fine. Maybe I shouldn't have outed him so quick. He is kind of sensitive about that, but it's true and it's not like he can hide it very easily. Most of the school makes fun of him for it, and god knows it all goes to his head." 

Sam frowned. He had his fair share of ridicule and rejection- thank god his father had never found out about him. 

"You should have heard him earlier practically gushing over this guy who stepped in to save him from two of Crowley's dickwads-" 

"Who's Crowley?" Sam asked, somewhat disinterested as he caught a distant scent of something sweet. 

"The school's biggest asshole. Every school has one. Last year, it was one of Castiel's older brothers, Luke. The rest of the jocks and bullies stayed away from Castiel because of that, but since Luke graduated, Crowley stepped up, and let's just say... Castiel and Crowley have history." 

Sam nodded absentmindedly as he grew more distracted. Faintly, he could pick up the beautiful scent that was Gabriel across the lunch room, and honing in on his location, Sam could pick out his voice among the rest. He was laughing. His sound was melodious, almost like a song. 

Dreamily, Sam spun in his seat to look at him. What on Earth was causing him to laugh so beautifully? 

Sam opened his eyes, unaware that he closed them in the first place, and with a single snap from Gabriel's fingers, the jock sitting next to him lobbed a handful of mashed potatoes, which sailed across the lunchroom. 

Sam could only watch. It was as if he was under a spell, cast by the one and only golden god, unable to move as the glob of lukewarm sloppy school lunch hit him in the face. 

Charlie was saying something, but Sam couldn't hear it. All he could hear was Gabriel's laugh twisted into a cruel snicker. 

Sam wiped most of what he could of the potatoes off his face, leaving the cafeteria as quick as he could while still passing as human. 

\---

There was only one singular word that Sam had adopted throughout his life that described his entire existence: survival. 

When Sam and Dean were younger, they scraped by with what little they had. They didn't live- they survived. 

Sam survived the cold motel nights alone when he was five, while his father and Dean hunted monsters for days on end. 

Sam survived eating dry cereal for each of the three courses throughout the day, and Sam survived the days he didn't eat at all. 

Sam survived being turned by vampires, and damn it if he couldn't survive the first day of school. 

So Sam walked into his sixth period class, hesitated in the doorway, and instantly whipped around to leave. Screw that. 

"Going somewhere?" 

Sam was a few steps down the hallway when he was confronted by- Sam's eyes flicked to the teacher's name tag- Mr. Heichel. His math teacher. 

"I- well... It's just-" Sam stumbled to make up an excuse before sighing, "I just haven't had a very good day, Sir." 

The teacher laughed, slapping Sam's shoulder and then slowly guiding him back to his class. "Let me let you in on a secret, kid. No one has a good first day, or second day, or third, because school is school and it will always be monotonous, repetitive, and boring. School is not about being smart- it's about being strong to get through the days." 

Mr. Heichel winked, and Sam decided Mr. H was his favorite teacher. Sam walked into the class once again, this time standing up straight and keeping a level head, taking the front right-most seat, which was the exact opposite of where the gold menace sat, with his crew of chuckling imps. 

Surprisingly enough, they left Sam alone save for some name calling, but Sam could practically feel the tension in the air. Most of the class' attention was pinned on Gabriel, who let out snide remarks and comments to the teacher and students around him. 

So Sam directed most of his attention to Mr. H, and did his best to raise his hand and answer the teacher's math questions with ease. 

There was one thing, however, that Sam still did not fully understand by the end of the period. 

Sam sniffed the air cautiously, searching out Gabriel's scent, and inhaled. Sam grimaced. Still the same aroma of sweets and goods. A lot of things can be told by someone's scent- for instance, Meg, who looked like she was dressed for a funeral, smelled like a few different spices combined with vanilla. The guy sitting next to Gabriel with the bruised nose smelled down right sinister- like old mold growing in a dusty basement. 

And Gabriel smelled every bit as heavenly as Sam remembered. 

Sam packed up the rest of his papers and pencils, and slung one strap of his backpack on his shoulder. 

Mr. H excused the class a little before the bell rang, reminding them that they needed graphing paper by Friday and that they would have a seating arrangement by tomorrow.

Sam stopped by Mr. H's desk on the way out, and reached out his hand. "Thank you for your advice earlier. It helped." 

Mr. H broke into a smile and shook Sam's hand firmly. "No problem, Sam. School is as hellish for teachers as it is for students. You would not believe the gossip in the teacher's lounge." 

Sam laughed and waved at his teacher as he left, walking down the halls with a lighter heart than before. 

\---

"Come on, Dean," Sam gritted his teeth as he called his brother for the fourth time. The school parking lot was almost completely empty, save for students and teachers who needed to stay after for whatever reasons. 

However, Dean's pickup was not among them, and finally after calling his brother a fifth time, Dean picked up the phone. 

"I'm busy," Dean said promptly and Sam almost screamed in frustration. "I'm still at the school! Where are you??" 

"Busy. Just walk home." 

"It's dumping rain and four miles away!" 

"I know," Dean said, and hung up on Sam. 

Sam groaned, feeling the urge to throw his phone across the parking lot. While Sam would take rain any day over a sunny day, walking four miles in pouring rain was not his favorite thing to do. 

He paced under the cover of the front of the school, just about ready to make the hike when a car pulled up, and rolled down the window. 

"Get in! Hurry!" 

Sam ran out into the rain and hopped into the passenger seat, buckling his seatbelt quickly as Castiel practically peeled out of the school parking lot. 

"Slow down!" Sam yelled, and Castiel slammed the breaks as he almost ran the stop sign. 

Sam looked over at his friend in astonishment, and Castiel looked back with excitement in his eyes, letting out an out- of-character yell of excitement. 

"Did you steal a car?? Is this stolen?" Sam half yelled as Castiel sped down the roads. 

"Sort of. It's my brother's car, but he never lets me drive it. He got stuck in after school detention today, and I thought maybe he deserved this since I heard what happened in the lunchroom." 

Sam tilted his head in confusion. "What? I thought you said your brother graduated." 

Castiel gave Sam a sideways glance from the driver's seat. "Gabriel is a senior. Luke is the one that graduated." 

A feeling of dread settled upon on Sam. "What does this have to do with Gabriel?" 

Castiel stopped at a stop light, turning to face Sam. "You don't know?" 

Sam looked out the window of the car, breaking eye contact with Castiel. 

"Know what?" Sam knew. The dots finally connected in his brain. He just hadn't heard it yet. 

"Gabriel is my brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O damn. Someone call the po po on Castiel ;O; ok ok I hope you enjoyed the latest edition to my collection of trash, and it's garbage night so someone please take me and my story out to the curb  
> Good Night Everybody!


	4. Like a Deer in the Headlights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay first off I want to apologize for the wait on this chapter! I think it's the longest yet, and I'm still mapping out the story so these first few chapters are gonna be a little slow to come by. I've also started college up again, so I'll do my best on updating weekly on the weekends, but no promises! One thing I can promise though is that I won't abandon this story! I had a person ask me if I was abandoning it so to clarify: no, I shall not abandon my baby, no matter how trashy she may be. Happy reading!  
> OOH I FORGOT! If you haven't checked it out, I wrote a fluffy little Sabriel oneshot. I dunno it's kind of cute so um yeah! Check it out! 
> 
> Hugs and Kitties,  
> NappingStabbingBlooking

Sam fidgeted anxiously in the living room, waiting for Bobby to enter through the door. He hadn't made much conversation with his new guardian since he and his brother had been dropped off a few days ago by their father. There was still no word from John- he was probably still going after the group of vampires that had turned Sam and Dean- but everyone knew John would not be coming back any time soon, if at all. 

Finally, Bobby came through the door, hauling a large buck in by the antlers. Sam jumped up to help, and together they hauled the dead animal to the basement. 

"Sam, I need you to go back upstairs."

"Why?" Sam asked, with a small tilt to his head. 

"I need to bleed this thing dry, and it ain't gonna be pretty," Bobby said gruffly, but Sam paused at the basement steps. 

"I could help," Sam offered. "I've seen- been through worse." 

"That's not the point, kid! Just go wait in the kitchen." 

So Sam scurried up the stairs without another word, and waited at the kitchen table as the overwhelming scent of blood struggled to escape from the wooden floorboards. However, Sam's fangs did not unsheathe- he had just had a large dose of blood the day before and he wasn't feeling hungry in the least. Not to mention how unappetizing the animal blood smelled compared to human blood. 

And finally, finally, Bobby came back up, only to grab a handful of mason jars. 

"I can help," Sam said again, but Bobby fixed him with a vicious glance. "I think it's time you went to bed. Why don't you get some shut eye?" 

Sam shrugged, not feeling tired. Night time was his time, after all, but he complied for Bobby's sake. Sam walked back into the living room and flopped onto the couch, looking out the window with wide eyes. 

Bobby marched back down into the basement, grimacing at the hanging corpse of the deer. The last few drops of blood were caught into the bucket below, and Bobby worked quickly to fill all the mason jars he brought down with the deer blood. 

Heading back upstairs, and another flight up, Bobby knocked at Dean's door. The boy hadn't left the guest room since he had been dropped off, and Bobby steeled himself to take on a recently turned, starving vampire. 

"Dean, open up. I don't want to bust my own door down." 

Bobby expected some sort of resistance, but was surprised when Dean opened up quickly, his eyes fastened on the mason jar filled with blood. 

"I'm not going to drink it. I don't want it. I'd rather die," Dean whispered hoarsely, while staring at the blood longingly. Then, his eyes flicked to the bandages on Bobby's arm with a grimace, where he had been so graciously donating to Sam. 

"It's not my blood, Dean," Bobby said gently, offering the blood to Dean carefully. "I went hunting today- not your dad's kind of hunting, but deer hunting. Shot down a large buck, bled it in the basement. It's fine, Dean. If you carry on this way, you'll most likely lose control. Take it." 

Dean was convinced. He had not eaten anything, blood or food, since he had been turned. He grabbed the jar with shaky hands, unscrewing it so fast Bobby thought he was going to drop it. Hungrily, Dean tipped back the jar and downed the blood, maintaining eye contact with Bobby the whole time. A look of disgust was evident on Dean's face, and Bobby didn't know if it was from the taste or hate that he finally succumbed. 

He imagined it was probably both. 

Bobby stepped back to leave Dean alone, reaching forward to pull the door closed when Dean gripped Bobby's wrist with lightning speed. 

"Boy," Bobby said warningly, reaching for the dead man's blood he had kept secretly in his back pocket, but Dean's raspy voice nearly broke Bobby's heart. 

"More." 

Bobby complied, handing Dean not one, but two more jars before the boy finally cracked, smashing one of the jars to pieces in a clenched fist. 

Dean trembled, staring down at his blood covered hands- now mixed with his own blood from the shards of glass. 

"I can't, Bobby, I can't," Dean practically sobbed as he began to sink to his knees, but Bobby grabbed his shoulder and hoisted him up. 

"Yes you can. Get over it, Princess! So you got turned into a vamp. Big whoop. That doesn't mean life is over! You can- and you will learn to control yourself. I know you can do it." 

Dean looked up at Bobby through pained, fearful green eyes. "Go to the bathroom, get your hand cleaned up. And take a shower, you reek." 

"W-Why?" Dean stammered, and Bobby rolled his eyes. 

"Because I said so. We're going hunting tomorrow- deer hunting. I'm going to teach you, and I don't want you scaring the forest critters away with your stench. Now get!" 

Finally, something seemed to click in Dean's brain, and he began to pull himself together with a short nod toward his surrogate dad, walking out of the room with a little more purpose than before. 

Bobby shook his head gravely. 

\---

Dean looked down the scope of his rifle, sitting impossibly still from his perch high up in a tree. 

Rain sprinkled from the sky in a fine mist, and Dean narrowed his eyes to keep the precipitation from blinding him. 

Dean blinked slowly, and waited.

Finally, after an hour and a half of silence, a doe bounded into view. Dean raised his hunting rifle slowly, quietly, and the deer paused right below the tree. 

She didn't look too old- maybe born last spring- and Dean was thankful that she didn't seem to have any children. 

Suddenly, the doe looked up, straight at Dean, and he didn't hesitate to shoot her in the rib cage. She dropped instantly, and the birds that has gathered in the trees nearby fled at the sound of the gunshot. 

Quickly, Dean dropped from the tree and recovered the body, carrying it a short distance to where he had parked his truck a little ways back. Then his phone began to buzz. And buzz some more. 

Dean groaned as he answered it, standing in the cold rain as he talked with his brother. 

"Fine. Wait at the front of the school, I'll-" Dean cut off as he realized the connection had gotten lost, pocketing the phone with mild annoyance. 

He loaded the deer corpse into the back of the truck. He still had a few traps he needed to check before he went back to the school to pick his annoying little brother up. 

Dean checked the traps in under an hour, relying on his enhanced scent to check for the smell of death or blood from snared rabbits. Surprisingly, he hadn't caught anything. Grimly, Dean wondered if the upcoming winter would make it harder to catch less active or hibernating animals. Did rabbits hibernate? Dean didn't know. 

Finally, after his long morning, Dean climbed into his pickup to pick Sam's whiny ass up from school- 

-to pull up to the front with his little brother no where to be found. 

Dean panicked for a few good seconds. Could his brother have actually walked home in this rain? Of course, Dean had told him to. He didn't think he'd actually do it! He had waited in worse places for longer amounts of him. Was he alright?? 

Dean picked up his phone to call Bobby and alert him, but Dean noticed he had a notification from his brother. He must have gotten it when he got service again, while he was driving. 

Sam: Don't freak out when you see a car parked in Bobby's driveway. I have a friend over. 

His first initial feeling was relief. Okay. Sam was okay. And he picked himself up a little lady friend. Good. 

Dean's second thought turned to panic. Sam shouldn't be making friends! They couldn't make friends, they were monsters! They would put others in danger. What if Sam was snacking on her right now?! 

Dean tore out of the school parking lot, making all sorts of traffic violations in his wake as he sped to Bobby's house. 

 

\---

Sam took the Gabriel news shockingly well. He always kind of knew, seeing as both of their last names were Novak. It just took awhile for him to dial it in, and comprehend it. The two contrasted each other in both looks and personality, anyone could have made the same mistake. 

"So, he's a senior and he's in with Crowley's goonies?" Sam asked dumbly. He already knew the answer to both of these questions, but he was still struggling to catch up. 

"Yes. Now, I know that you're thinking he's probably a bad guy, but I assure you, most of Gabriel's intentions are good. He does play nasty pranks on people, but only when they deserve it. Crowley is... A bad influence on Gabriel."

Sam nodded sullenly. "Yeah, I guess I can see that. I uhh, kind of met him earlier today. He helped me find my class. He didn't seem like such a jerk then," Sam sniffed, and Castiel shot a shocked glance at Sam, and then a barely visible smirk crossed his face. 

"Where do you live, Sam?" Castiel asked. 

"Umm, do you know where Singer's Salvage Yard is at?" Sam could already hear Dean's disapproving voice at trusting people enough to let them know where they lived, but Sam shook his head. They were (mostly) normal teenagers now that could bring friends over occasionally! 

Sam was so caught up in his thoughts he almost missed Castiel's questions on which way to turn. After Sam told Castiel to keep straight, a subdued silence fell over the car. 

"I'm truly sorry about what happened at lunch, Sam," Castiel said softly, and Sam wrinkled his nose, cutting Castiel off quickly by countering, "Yeah, and I'm sorry about Charlie outing you." 

Sam knew it was a little harsh, but he was done talking about Gabriel. 

Castiel seemed indifferent about Sam's jab. "I was going to let you know soon enough. It's just not something I like to talk about much unless I truly know and trust the person I'm speaking to." 

Sam nodded, and Castiel finally pulled up and into Bobby's long driveway. Castiel stopped the car, but he left it running and looked at Sam expectantly, with cool blue eyes. 

Sam rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Look, Castiel- I'm really sorry about everything. Do you want to come in for a little bit? I know you have the same math class that I do, and Mr. Heichel assigned homework... And it could buy you some more time before getting in trouble over the car..." 

Sam broke off awkwardly, and Castiel seemed to be pondering Sam's offer very seriously before nodding to himself. "Yes, I'd like that." Castiel shut the car off and pocketed the keys, and the boys left the car to enter the house. 

Sam was a little worried about Bobby's reaction to bringing someone home, but the older man only slapped Sam's shoulder as they walked in and congratulated him, and made some excuse up about salvaging a few parts from a totaled car, and left the teens to avoid any other more awkward confrontations. 

Castiel stood in the doorway, nosing off his shoes and gingerly stepping into the house. Sam kept his shoes on- Bobby didn't care either way. 

A small smile occupied Castiel's face as he finally stepped through the threshold. "Your uncle has a lot of books," he observed as he ran his fingers down some of the spines as they walked past shelves and shelves of them on their way to the kitchen. 

"Yeah, he makes most of his living by working on cars out in the yard. But his hobbies mainly include research on..." Sam paused, shrugging as he told the truth. "All things supernatural and such." 

Castiel gave Sam a quizzical look, but Sam shrugged once more, reaching the kitchen table and plopping his backpack down. Sam pulled out his phone and shot a quick text to Dean, telling him he had a friend over, and hoping his bigger brother's reaction wouldn't be too bad. 

As Castiel settled down, Sam asked him, "Do you want anything to drink or eat?" Suddenly, Sam felt his face go pale. The fridge was stocked with blood, gore, and some less than appetizing animal parts. They needed a second fridge in the basement to put all this stuff. If Sam opened the fridge, Castiel would get a full view of all the guts and glory. 

"Uhh, actually. My uncle only really has beer. And we get all our water from the tap," Sam said breathlessly, and (thank god) Castiel shook his head politely. "No thank you, Sam." 

So Sam joined Castiel at the table, pulling out his math homework, and working in content silence. However, this silence only lasted for maybe fifteen minutes before the boys got distracted and began idle conversation- which is how Sam ultimately ended up giving Castiel a tour of the house. 

"I've always lived in the same suburbs. We don't go on vacations often, and I haven't gone to a friends house in a very, very long time," was all Castiel had to explain before Sam was showing him the living room, Bobby's office, and then the upstairs. 

Sam could definitely relate. He had always been thrilled to go to his friends's houses when he moved from school to school. It was nice being in an actual home, usually filled with kind parents who made sure Sam always had a little extra to eat, or even bring back to the motels he lived in. 

While Sam had instantly complied in letting Castiel see the rest of the house, he now wondered a little more deeply about the subject. Sam would stay at a friends house to escape the horrors of hunting, and his father. 

Was Castiel hiding from anything in particular? 

"This is your room?" Castiel asked, and Sam dismissed his thoughts with a shake of his head. "Nahh, this is my brother Dean's room. He doesn't really have a lot of possessions, since he thinks we're moving soon. He hasn't really settled yet," Sam shrugged. Dean's room was barren- the only way you could tell someone was living in it was the ruffled bedsheets and the occasional garment strewn across the floor. 

"How long have you been living with your Uncle?" Castiel asked, and Sam replied, "Since about the beginning of March. Dean and I would have joined school earlier, but there were some complications, so we decided to wait until the next school year. I finished sophomore year with last minute online classes. Dean definitely had to pull some strings in order to pass junior year."

"Your brother is a senior?" Castiel pressed and Sam was beginning to think they had been talking about Dean for too long. "Yes. But I doubt you'd have seen him. I'm pretty sure he skipped school school anyways."

"Here we are! The moment you've been waiting for: my room!" 

Sam beckoned Castiel excitedly. Sam's room was down at the end of the hall, and he pushed open the door happily, flopping down onto his bed, and then bringing himself into a more reserved, upright position. 

Hardly in his life had Sam been able to call a room his very own, so he had gone all out in decorating his room with whatever had come into his possession for the past few months. 

Paper snowflakes from old unimportant envelops plastered the walls, and even a few paper cranes hung from the ceiling. Posters of things Sam liked, and even posters of things that Sam didn't like were pinned haphazardly around the room. 

"Wow. Where'd you get the stop sign?" Castiel seemed to be thoroughly amused with Sam's collectibles. 

Sam laughed, a guilty look flashing across his face. "Uhh, you know the missing stop sign from the Walmart parking lot?" 

A large smile formed on Castiel's face. "You didn't." 

"You're right! Dean did it! I was only a whiteness," Sam complained, and finally, Castiel was bubbling with laugher. It warmed Sam's heart to see his friend truly laugh- usually he was so melancholy and straight faced that Sam had a difficult time reading him. 

"Either way, Bobby kicked both our asses when we got home. Said Dean needed to be more mature, and I needed to tell Dean to be more mature. I know Bobby was somewhat proud though, because he let me keep the sign." 

Castiel smiled, his eyes and nose crinkling with laugh lines. "Your uncle and your brother sound like good people, Sam." 

"Yeah, they are good people," Sam echoed softly. 

\---

Dean practically threw the car door open as he skidded towards the house, slipping on the gravel. He had barely had the time to appreciate the golden Lincoln Continental parked outside the house as he bust down Bobby's door, searching frantically for his brother. 

"Sam?! Sammy!" 

Dean rushed up the stairs, kicking open the door, startling the two teens who had moments before been examining Sam's bottle cap collection- each and every bottle cap his father, Bobby, Dean, or he had drank were painstakingly glued to one of the walls, marking a colorful assortment to the baby blue walls. 

"What the hell, Dean!" Sam yelled, but Dean was way too preoccupied with a pair of blue eyes that practically matched the walls. 

"Cassie?" Dean asked dumbly, too shocked to really say anything else. 

The dark-haired teen looked offended at the nickname, and Sam looked between the two of them in bewilderment. "You know each other??" 

Cassie- or whatever his name was, responded with a mumbled 'yes' while Dean instantly replied with a loud 'no'. 

"This is your friend?" Dean struggled to hop on board with the increasingly awkward situation at hand. Sam nodded curtly, and Dean gave Sam the calmest yet angriest look he could handle. A look that said, 'we'll talk later'. 

"Look- Cassie-"

"It's Castiel." 

Dean stared openly at the shorter teen, who shockingly held his ground in Dean's presence, even after witnessing Dean beat up a few people. 

Dean felt like he was losing himself in the teen's eyes, and he shook his head. Cas-ta- Castaielle? What? What was his name again? He smelled kind of nice, that's all Dean really knew. 

"Okay, Cas- Whatever. You can't be here. You need to leave." 

"Mr. Singer allowed me to stay. He is your guardian, is he not? You are not the boss of your brother, or of me." Dean shivered. Cas spoke with an edge to his voice, his eyes like steel, and damn his voice! It was low and intimidating, and it should definitely not sway Dean the way it did. 

Sam cringed, moving to step forward as if to shield Castiel from Dean's anger, but after a few astonishing moments, Dean kind of half shrugged, and awkwardly backed out of the room. 

"I have to go shadow Dr. Marshall at the hospital in an hour. Call if you need anything. And I don't want to hear any funny business in here!" Dean called through the closed door, and Sam groaned as he yelled back, "It's not like that!" 

Sam backed up until he felt the back of his knees hit the soft mattress of his bed, and he fell backwards into the fluff of his comforter. Castiel surprised him by flopping next to him. 

"Sorry about him. He's so embarrassing," Sam covered his face with his hands. 

"Is he always like that?" Castiel wondered, and Sam sighed.

"Only when he's protective of me. Which is all the time." 

Castiel sat up and gazed at Sam seriously, and Sam felt as if he was getting scrutinized. 

"You should be grateful you have a brother who protects you like he does. While I know Gabriel cares about me, he wouldn't stand up for me- or anyone. Not even for himself." 

Sam frowned, letting out a slow breath as he contemplated his friend's words. 

"Hey," Sam spoke hesitantly as he stared up at the ceiling. "I just want you to know that, well... If you ever need a place to crash, or if you need to get away from home, or even if you're bored... You're welcome here. No matter how annoyed Dean will get." Sam chuckled a bit nervously. He had only met Castiel today, yet he was already inviting him into his home and into his world. 

Castiel, however, twitched a little, turning his head to look at Sam with hopeful eyes. "You really mean that?" 

"Yeah, buddy. Of course."

Castiel smiled gratefully, closing his eyes as he sank back into the mattress. "Thank you, Sam. That means a lot." 

The minutes ticked by in relaxed quiet, as the new friends enjoyed each other's company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D I hoped you all liked it! Don't be afraid to drop kudos or a comment. I don't bite... much. Next update will be next weekend or any time before that! Depends on my writer's block.  
> Goodnight Everybody!


	5. Partners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Okay first of all I'm sooooo sorry about being late on updating. I've been very stressed the past couple of days- I had to book a flight somewhere far from home because my grandma died. RIP. It took a long time getting this chapter out and I feel so bad because I don't even think I've had to chance to thank you all for all the kind comments and kuddos! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, next one will be out as soon as Friday or as late as Sunday!  
> Hugs and Kittens,  
> NappingStabbingBlooking

Sam woke up to his own inner alarm clock the next morning, about fifty minutes from when he actually needed to get up to take care of morning business and go to school. 

Sam groaned, rubbing his eyes. He used to love mornings, and the sunrise, but now it only gave him headaches. It was hard enough to fall asleep during the night, since vampires were nocturnal creatures, but Sam was determined to live his life as humanly as he possibly could. 

Sam winced, rubbing out the soreness of his left bicep, trying to get the feeling back into his muscles. He had slept with one of his arms resting on the pillow above his head- a bad habit after sleeping handcuffed to the headboard one too many times. 

He didn't have the need to last night, since he had just had a dose of human blood the morning before. After some trial and error, Sam had found if he drank animal blood multiple times during the day, he could last around five to six days without a hit of human blood before he started to feel twitchy and restless from the hunger. 

The longest Sam had ever gone without was eleven days- and it had not been pretty. 

Dean hadn't made the luckiest break at the different hospitals and shelters he volunteered at. The last time he had acquired blood for Sam, he had broken into a blood donation center and stole as many blood bags as he could carry. Sam had long ago run out of the stolen transfusions after guzzling bag after bag, and Dean could only barter and steal so much without giving himself away. 

After that whole ordeal, Sam made sure he kept a very tight diet, and drank human blood only when necessary. 

The teen vampire sighed and rolled over in the sheets of his bed, looking out the window at the empty blue sky, wishing for the weather of yesterday as sunlight began to fill the room. 

Sam didn't understand how Dean could withhold himself from the urges and needs of the hunger. Perhaps it was the fact that Dean had never even tasted human blood- but wouldn't that just make him hungrier? 

Another forlorn sigh and Sam was pulling himself out of bed, regretfully looking out the window at the sunny world. 

After taking a shower and dressing himself for the day, Sam carefully picked his way down the creaky stairs and pulled out a stale box of some of Dean's sugary cereal, and raided the fridge for milk that wasn't expired. 

Before Sam knew it, Dean had thundered down the stairs, and was staring at Sam with wounded eyes. "That had better not be the last of the Frosted Flakes." 

Sam refrained a sigh and shook the still relatively-full box of cereal, and Dean's eyes lit up positively. 

The two brothers sat down and ate their cereal together. While the vampires really only needed blood to live, they enjoyed partaking in things that still made them human. 

Sam mumbled through a bite, "We need to go to the store soon. Maybe get some fruit. Apples, bananas-" 

Sam cut off when he saw the offended look Dean was giving him, a stray dribble of milk dripping off his chin. 

"We need real food, Dean! I can't live off this sugary diabetes like you can." 

Dean chewed and smirked, "C'mon, Sammy! You used to love this stuff as a kid." 

"That's because we were lucky to find the food we did," Sam deadpanned. 

The smirk on Dean's face immediately twisted into a grotesque, and he swallowed the large mouthful of cereal he had been obnoxiously chewing before. Silence filled the house, except for Bobby's snores from upstairs- who possibly hungover from the night before. 

"Did you get any blood from the hospital?" Sam tried to ask nonchalantly, looking at the milk filled bowl sitting on the table. He didn't like to drink the milk at the end, since it always seemed to upset his stomach. 

Dean's head snapped up, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why? Are you hungry?" 

"No, Dean," Sam groaned. "I'm fine. I was just wondering, since we're all out for the moment. Unless you count Bobby." 

Dean absolutely glowered at Sam for that. He hadn't meant it, of course. He just felt a little on edge knowing he didn't have anything to fall back on if he suddenly did start to feel hungry. Sam's stomach twisted, and Sam ignored it. 

"We'll go to the store after school," Dean finally said, scraping the chair against the hard floor as he stood up. Well, that answered the question about the blood. 

Sam quickly raided the fridge one last time, grabbing a metal thermos that was filled with animal blood and packing it away in his backpack. It was dangerous bringing the blood to school, but if Sam had an episode, he needed blood in him right away. 

The brothers hopped into Dean's pick up wrapped in long sleeves, pants, and sunglasses, the early morning sun just barely beginning to warm up the earth with the summer's last dying breath as fall started to make way into Sioux Falls. 

\---

Dean made his way through his first period without much horror as he had first initially thought. Of course, his teacher gave him shit about missing his first day, but the history class didn't seem like it would be too much of a pain in the ass, even though Dean hated history. 

It was his gym period, however, that Dean encountered major issues. As he pushed open the double doors into the gym, he heard a familiar voice behind him. 

"Dean. You have Physical Education this period?" 

Dean practically groaned, turning to face Sam's friend, whom he could still not pronounce the name of. 

"Dude, it's P.E., or gym. You don't call it Physical Education man, it's like you're begging to get beat up." 

Castiel tilted his head, his mouth twitching. "I was attempting to make friends with you since Sam speaks so well of you, but obviously he was incorrect." 

It took Dean a few more seconds than it should have to realize he had offended the junior. 

Castiel shoved past him and into the gym, and Dean had to jog to catch up. "S-Sorry," Dean stammered, the faintest of blushes spreading across his freckled face. "You know I didn't mean it like that." 

Cas turned and held his gaze. Dean felt frozen to the spot as he stared into the other's deep blue eyes. 

"There is nothing wrong with being grammatically proper, Dean," Cas responded unhappily, and Dean found himself nodding vigorously. "No, of course not! It makes you sound smart." 

Castiel gave Dean a smile that lifted Dean's spirits a bit more than he'd like to admit. 

However, things just had to get complicated, because that was Dean's life. 

The two assholes that Dean had swept the floor with earlier shared the same gym period. There were also two other jerks who were hanging around Azazel and Alister- one with brownish blonde hair and a permanent shit-eating grin stuck on his face, and the other a bit more sinister- dark haired, and a thoughtful yet devious look on his face. Both were also considerably short. 

The moment Dean had entered the locker room and saw them, the two larger of the four practically charged towards Dean. Without really thinking, Dean stepped in front of Castiel, shielding him from whatever was about to go down. 

Dean squared up, preparing for another fight, but surprisingly the golden haired student quickly found his way in between the three before any punches could be thrown. 

"Woah! Down, boys," what Dean supposed the leader of the four announced, standing in front of Alister and Azazel before they could attempt to attack Dean. "What seems to be the problem here?" 

"He's that new kid that interrupted us yesterday when we were playing with Cassie!" Alister whined, and Azazel said, "Yeah, the one that knocked us on our asses." 

Dean bristled, and Castiel shrank further behind Dean. 

"Can't we all just get along?" The golden haired kid drawled. He shoo'd Alister and Azazel away with a small flick of his hand,  
finally turning his around to face Dean. 

"Gabriel, at your service!" Goldie- or Gabriel, took a deep yet sarcastic bow, smiling brightly at Dean. "What can I do for ya? I could hook you up with any girl you want- we've got a good selection of hotties here at Brookside High. Or any guys? I'm not here to judge. Anything you want, to make up for the little, uh, conundrum yesterday," Gabriel grinned and winked scandalously. 

"I want them to leave me alone- and Cas too while you're at it," Dean replied hotly. 

Gabriel's eyes flicked over to Castiel in faint surprise, who was still hovering behind Dean's shoulder. Then, to Dean's surprise, Gabriel looked a little crestfallen, and if he didn't have good hearing he wouldn't have caught what Gabriel muttered under his breath. 

"You and me both." 

Suddenly, Gabriel perked back up, all smiles. "What's your name, soldier?" Gabriel mocked Dean's tense battle-ready frame. 

Dean had half the mind to smack him over the head, but he refrained, too curious about his remark about Castiel. 

"Dean Winchester." 

Gabriel's whole face lit up. "You wouldn't happen to have a little bro, would you?" 

Dean looked at Gabriel sharply, taken aback, and that was all he needed to see. 

"You and I are going to be the best of friends," Gabriel grinned, slapping Dean's shoulder. 

Dean frowned, and Gabriel practically skipped back to his posse of dicks. 

"What the hell was that all about?" Dean asked Castiel, who had a regretful look on his face. 

"Gabriel is my brother. It seems as if he's come up with another one of those preposterous plans of his."

"That dude's your brother?!" 

\---

Dean and Castiel made it through class okay. Since it was still the first couple of days, they weren't required to dress down yet, and since they had to be active the teacher just sent them out to walk the track for the whole period. 

It wouldn't be such a problem if it wasn't so sunny out. 

Dean threw up the hood on his coat, grumbling all the while. Dean was walking a quicker pace than Castiel would have liked to take, but Castiel knew the moment he split from Dean, Alister and Azazel would be on his ass. Not to mention he just so happened to find himself in a class with Crowley. 

"You don't talk much, do you?" Dean asked Castiel, to which Castiel merely shot him a side glance. 

"Why do those guys hate you, anyways? And what's with your brother douche-ing it up over there with them?" 

Castiel shrugged half-heartedly, hunching in on himself. Dean realized he was proding at a messy situation with a stick. 

"Because I'm a pushover. And an easy target." Dean looked across the track to where the small group minus Gabriel were giving them the death glare. Gabriel was picking flowers along the side of the track from the unkept football field. 

"You stood up for yourself yesterday at Bobby's house. And earlier, when we walked in the gym." Dean felt the air around them fill with growing tension. 

"Well, that's because I knew you wouldn't punch me in the gut. I usually face... punishment when I try to fight back. But I knew you wouldn't hurt me," Castiel explained calmly, and Dean immediately responded, "You don't know that." 

Castiel looked back at Dean, his head cocked as if he was confused. "I don't know what, Dean?" 

Dean sucked in his breath and bit the insides of his cheeks roughly. "You don't know I won't hurt you." 

Castiel rolled his blue eyes. They matched the sky rather nicely. "Of course you won't hurt me."

"And what makes you so sure?? You don't know me! I could be anyone, Cas! I could be a monster, and you wouldn't even know it," Dean argued weakly, coming to a halt in the middle of the track. 

"Because you like me," Castiel said matter-of-fact like. 

"Wh-What?!" Dean shouted, his voice trailing up a few octaves higher. "I don't like you!" 

And then Castiel turned his god damn big blue eyes on Dean, which had him stuttering further. "I mean, I don't like-you like-you. You're a pretty okay guy," Dean finished lamely. 

Castiel gave Dean a long look, and if Dean hadn't been awkwardly staring down at his shoes, he would have seen the brief flash of hurt etch across Castiel's face. The junior quietly echoed, "You are pretty 'okay' yourself." 

They finished the rest of their lap in silence, yet Dean's mind still raced a mile a minute as he replayed their conversation over and over again in his head. Damn it was going to be a long day. 

\---

Sam was having an equally awkward day. Unlike Dean's, Sam's day started out just fine. He joked with Charlie and Castiel all during first period. He made it through passing periods all right, but only because he hunched his shoulders to try and attempt to look smaller. He had even been chased for a short time by some of Gabriel's terrible friends, but he lost them quickly. 

However, what Sam couldn't escape from were all the passing by comments and mutters across the classroom. With Sam's hearing, there was no back stabbing. He heard everything whispered in the backs of classrooms- a good handle of said comments being whispers about him. 

"That's the new kid. He's really tall." 

"Does he play basketball?" 

"Not every tall person plays basketball, you idiot." 

"I heard he has an older brother who roughed up Crowley's gang." 

"I saw him take mashed potatoes to the face on the first day of school!" 

"He hangs out with those outcasts too." 

While most comments were just rumors and curious thoughts, some turned very nasty- from poking fun at his longish hair to flat out calling him names he would not like to repeat. 

So Sam finally dragged his feet to his sixth period, chanting to himself, "It's Thursday, it's Thursday. Just one more day and then you're done." 

But obviously, luck was not on Sam's side. 

Scribbled on the white board in the front of the class was the following messy message: 

'Don't get comfortable. Permanent seating chart.' 

The class began bumbling around and groaning. Sam furrowed his eyebrows. Permanent? As in all year? 

Sam shrugged. He didn't mind too much. As long as he got a seat where he could see out the window, and as long as he wasn't sat anywhere near- 

\---

"Gabriel!" Mr. Heichel pointed to a chair on the third row back. 

Gabriel sighed exaggeratedly, as he swung off the desk he had been sitting on and strolled over to his desk as slowly as he could, taking his sweet time. 

Mr. Heichel gave him a tired look, and Gabriel quickly slid into his seat, on the far right of the row. He felt a twinge of guilt at his teacher's worn face, but it quickly melted away in confidence as he saw his friends snickering and a girl blush as he caught her staring at him. 

However, guilty feelings returned as he caught Sam's cold glance burn him hot all over. 

Oh well. He really did like the junior. He was tall, and handsome as all hell. And while he was a bumbling, clumsy, awkward bloke, Gabriel had a secret soft spot for nerdy kids like him. 

Gabriel's thoughts drifted to Kali, his off-again-on-again girlfriend. He fought the small smile that wormed its way onto his face. Man, Kali in middle school had been such a dweeb- pigtails, glasses, good grades, the whole package.

Yet puberty hit her like a truck and while she did become remarkably beautiful, she had changed big time. Her good girl status quickly turned bad as he realized she could get her way with a few well placed hair flips and winks. 

Sam reminded him of Kali before high school- and damn if that didn't touch his heart a bit. Gabriel wasn't going to try and lie to himself that he wasn't attracted to the guy. Hell, he had been practically drooling and daydreaming about rather scandalous things with Sam's first accidental steps into his economics class. 

But Gabriel knew better than to approach him right away. He hoped with some elaborate planning and befriending the kid's older brother- Dean, right? And slowly but surely work his way into Sam's life. His younger brother seemed to have made friends with him, so it was all the easier to pester Cassie for information about him. 

He just needed to hang back awhile, scope the situation out. He knew he had a rough start with the kid after Crowley and his friends had egged him on to throw mashed potatoes at him. And the kid had just sat there and watched him as it nailed him smack dab in the center of his face! 

Maybe after a few months of careful plotting and lustful stares, he could- 

"Sam." Mr. Heichel pointed to the seat next to Gabriel, and Gabriel felt his face uncharacteristically heat up in a blush. Gabriel snuck a peak at Sam, who looked just as mortified as he felt. He stood agonizingly still for a few moments before dragging his feet, pulling out his chair rather gingerly and sitting down stiffly on the seat. 

Gabriel couldn't take his eyes off the taller student, and finally he caught Sam's eyes, which were an unusual color. Were they brown, hazel? Maybe a gray? 

Sam coughed, and Gabriel realized he'd been staring for too long. He hopelessly turned and started digging aimlessly in his backpack for his homework and a pencil. 

Shit. Shit. Oh shit. 

It had begun to dawn on Gabriel that he was going to be sharing a desk with Sam Winchester. For the whole year. 

Gabriel's head spun a mile a minute. He needed to revise all of his plans. He had not planned to be put in such close proximity to Sam so soon. He needed time to slip secret love notes into his locker and keep his friends from tormenting him! 

Gabriel slumped miserably in his seat as the teacher directed the rest of the students in the class to their shared tables. Most of Gabriel's friends had ended up in the front row, separated strategically. Damn that teacher! 

"Now before you all start asking if you can move, I'm going to remind you that these seats are permanent. I watched your behavior on the first day and put you with the person I think you'd work best with. 

"I will move people if I have to, but for the most part, get used to the person next to you. All partner projects you work on will be with the person next to you." 

Gabriel sank lower into his seat as Mr. H finally went on with today's lesson. He pulled his notebook onto his lap as he doodled most of the period away. He learned better by listening than by taking notes anyways. 

And finally, as if Mr. H hadn't pooped on his parade enough, he gave them their first partner assignment. 

"I want you to get to know the person beside you, so take the last few minutes of class to write any inferences or thoughts you have about your partner without talking to them. You'll compare lists tomorrow, correct each other, and turn in the assignment. No homework, other than that." 

Gabriel felt his heart sink in misery. He's rather do a hundred math problems. He quickly sat up straight in his chair, managing to accidentally knock elbows with Sam on the way up. 

"Sorry," Gabriel tried, and Sam scooted his chair as far from Gabriel as he could. 

Ouch. Okay. Gabriel started his list. 

1\. Holds grudges 

Gabriel stared down at his handwriting, quickly scribbling it out. 

1\. Very attractive. Probably a male model 

Gabriel crumbled his paper up and stuffed it deep into his backpack. 

Sam, on the other hand, seemed to have half a page on Gabriel already. He discreetly attempted to read what Sam was writing about him, but he covered it up easily with his large fore arms and hands. 

By the time the bell rang, Gabriel was already all packed up and left the class in a huff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, next chapter will be out as soon as Friday, no later than Sunday! If you haven't had a chance to check it out, I wrote a cute little Sabriel oneshot if your into that!  
> Goodnight Everybody!


	6. Hunger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man you guys I am such a dirty liar! I can't believe I'm posting late. Again. I'm s o sorry jeez. Nearly 60 kuddos and this is how I treat you guys. Please forgive. I'm reaching midterms at my college and I have so many papers I need to write and so many tests so I'm not even gonna lie, next chapter will probably be late just like this one. So sorry. And I'm also sorry that this chapter is probably boring to y'all. Hang in there, because I promise things will pick up in the next couple o chapters. Thanks so much for everything, have a wonderful day <3   
> Hugs and Fishes,   
> rainb0wshine

Time seemed to slow down as Sam heard his name falling from Mr. Heichel's lips, all the while pointing at the seat next to Gabriel. 

Maybe if he ran now, he could set up life at a different high school, preferably out of state? 

Finally, when Sam realized he was still standing rigidly in the same spot, he unstuck his feet from the ground and pulled the chair out, sitting in it quickly. 

Sam did his best to ignore the golden haired jerk to his right, but it was hard when he was blatantly ogling Sam. 

After making awkward eye contact, Gabriel turned away and stared out the window, sinking in his seat. Sam felt his heart sink lower. 

Sam had a hard time focusing in class that day. He was too busy imagining all the shared partner projects that he would probably be doing all the work. And Gabriel's intoxicating scent and nervous, fluttering heartbeat didn't help any. 

Sam's stomach twisted once more, and a feeling of desolation took over. There was no mistaking it- he was already aching for another fix of human blood. How could he need blood so quickly?? Usually it took him around four days to start feeling wrong and twisted. 

Perhaps something had triggered him to want human blood so badly. 

Sam could hardly pay attention. Mr. H's words didn't register in Sam's mind emotionally, and he quickly ripped a piece of paper out of his journal to start making a list of inferences about the golden haired trickster. 

Gabriel knocked Sam's elbow. His scent was crushingly sweet, enveloping Sam and short-circuiting his brain. 

Gabriel mumbled something. 

Sam's mouth watered. 

Then, almost shakily, he scooted himself as far away as possible as he could from the other, willing his fangs to stay put and hidden in his gums, focusing down on his work as he wrote about the addicting drug that was Gabriel. 

2\. Plays an instrument of some sort probably 

Sam knew it was vague but it was hard trying to ignore the person next to him while writing about said person. 

7\. Animal lover. Favorite animal- dog? 

Wistful thinking, Sam. Not everyone's favorite animal is the dog. He scribbled dog out and instead wrote cat. 

Further down the list and Sam was running out of ideas. 

18\. Loves sweets- maybe spicy things too

19\. Christian? Maybe atheist 

20\. His blood type is A negative. 

Sam stared down at his paper meekly. He could smell his blood type, he could hear the blood cells pulsing through his arteries as they zipped around with every damn pulse of his heart. It was as if all of Sam's nerves were suddenly on fire. He needed the blood. He needed HIS blood, he- 

\---

Sam was hungry. 

No. Hungry- hungry didn't even begin to DESCRIBE how much he needed- needed- 

Sam coughed pitifully, his throat parched. He blinked his eyes in the darkness of his place of current residence- although it wasn't really darkness, was it? 

He blinked his eyes and tried to bring his hands to his face to rub them, but chains rattled on his wrists. There was something terrifying about being locked up, and suddenly he was thrashing against his shackles, on the brink of hysteria. 

Oh god, there was something wrong with his eyes. He knew he was in the dark, but he could see, he could see everything so CLOSELY... And his hearing- he could hear someone crying. He could hear- Dean? 

Distantly, he could hear his name being called. 

"Sammy?! Sam!" 

Sam blinked, calming down a bit. His brother was near. He needed to figure out where he was- a barn, it smelled like, but what was he doing locked up in a horse stall? And why, was he feeling like he hadn't eaten in days?? He was starving, he was- 

Someone was rattling the lock to his cell. Sam fell uncharacteristically quiet, backing into the darkest corner, lying in wait. An instinctive predatory state took over him as he blended in with the shadows. 

Someone was being pushed into the cell- Sam was aware that she was screaming, and beyond that he could hear his brother calling out his name, begging him not to do it- 

But Sam was entirely focused on the red splatter on her dress. The wound- from a knife maybe? was still oozing, parts of the dried blood flaking off as she banged on the stall doors, sobbing to be let out. 

Sam was confused, of all things. Curious, even. He sniffed the air- could it really be the- the BLOOD that smelled to good? 

He slowly approached her, his nose twitching almost innocently. His chains rattled. 

Suddenly, she was aware he was in the stall with him. 

"Get away! Get away!" She screeched, clawing at the doors. 

Sam took a step forward, and it was suddenly as if he couldn't control himself. Something was screaming in the back of his mind as he pounced on her like a wild animal, pinning her down and ripping her apart in a frenzy, but he didn't care to pay attention to it. All he could feel was the hunger, the thirst, the drive for more, more, more-! 

\---

The bell rang, jarring Sam. 

Gabriel left the room without pushing in his chair, his scent lingering for a short while until it almost entirely faded away. 

Sam let out a small, shaky sigh and slowly packed his things away, his assignment crumpling to the bottom of his ratty backpack. 

Soon enough, all the other kids left class as well, and Sam was at his teacher's desk in a flash. 

"I have to move spots," Sam spilled quickly, and Mr. H looked at him in surprise. 

"Really, Sam? You and Gabriel seemed to get along just fine in class."

"Yeah, well, we don't get along. At all." Sam countered, his mouth twisting in a small fit of barely contained anger. 

"You know I put him with you for a reason right?" Mr. Heichel took on a serious tone, one that made Sam feel slightly uncomfortable. 

"He's the biggest trouble maker in school. You have a rather level head- being partnered with you would do him some good, and god knows he needs it. Unless you really, really can't sit next to him..." Mr. Heichel trailed off and Sam wanted to rip his hair out. 

Why couldn't he be normal for once?! Why couldn't he just sit next to a cute guy without literally wanting to rip his throat out?? It honestly didn't make it easier that said 'cute guy' was a real dick bag. 

No... No! It's fine. He wouldn't let something like this beat him. Besides... his stomach wasn't aching as badly as it was before. Maybe it was just a fluke. Bad memories, conflicted emotions, and a stuffy classroom can do that sort of thing. He would be fine. 

"No, it's good. Never mind. I'll do my best to, uh, handle him I guess." Sam quickly fled the classroom, not wanting to disappoint his teacher any further. 

\---

"Took you long enough," Dean instantly grumbled as Sam climbed up into his brother's pick up truck. "Did you forget you wanted to go to the store?" 

"Something like that," Sam mumbled as he tried to close the door, which kept wanting to pop back open. 

Dean shrugged and hit the gas, skidding out of the emptying school parking lot. 

They arrived at the store shortly after, and Sam snuck a bag of lollipops into the load of fruits and vegetables without Dean noticing. 

They left for home after that, and Sam immediately excused himself to his room, and Dean stood dumbly in the living room, not knowing what to do with himself for the rest of the day. 

Everywhere Dean went in the house, he couldn't help but feel restless. His heart fluttered at the color blue, and by the time the beautiful day had turned sour and the air fizzled with lightning from the thunderstorm that sat over Sioux Falls, Dean was done. 

He kept telling himself it had nothing to do with the fact Castiel had the bluest eyes he had ever seen, or the way he smelled like new books, a cool breeze, and the smell of ozone from a storm. 

No, he was just anxious about not having any human blood in the house for his brother. He needed something to do to distract him. 

Twice, Dean found himself rummaging around in Bobby's alcohol stash, but he feared getting drunk would bring out the honest side of him, so he decided against it. 

The only thing that would relieve him of his anxiety was doing something about it! And his anxiety was about his brother. Not because his heart jumps when Cas looks at him. 

He finally made up his mind and grabbed his keys, out the door on his way to shadow Dr. Marshall again. 

Normally, he only volunteered at the hospital once a week to relieve suspicion, so Dean was taking a risk by going twice this week- especially one day after another. He had called the doctor minutes before, and he was surprised to hear from him so soon, but was more than happy to let Dean help him with some of the more mundane tasks at the hospital. 

"Hey, Doc!" Dean greeted Dr. Marshall, in his office and the quirky man, who had been looking at a couple of files turned to face Dean with a smile. 

"Dean! Long time no see," he joked, running a hand through his mused hair. The man was somewhere in his thirties, and had a rather dry sense of humor. Either way, he was kind and serious about his work, and Dean respected him greatly. 

"What brings you back to the grave so soon?" 

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed his scrubs, pulling on the bleach-stained overcoat. "Hospitals aren't just full of the dead and dying, Doctor." 

Dr. Marshall pointed a finger at him. "True, but there's no need to get smart with me. CNA's could use some help cleaning up the bedding in room 221. Once you're done with that, come find me somewhere else on this floor." 

Dean nodded and headed briskly out on his way, winking at the cute nursing assistant whom he was helping with the old sheets. 

When he first came here a couple of months back, he was strictly told basically to sit down and shut up while Dr. Marshall worked, and to uphold all hospital policies, blah blah... He had come with the excuse of looking into working in the medical field, but he was soon put to work by the Doctor, insisting that an extra pair of hands was well appreciated around here. 

Now he was well known with the staff and even some of the long term patients as he followed Marshall's orders and bustled around the hospital fetching paperwork and even wheeling patients around. 

Company policy had given up trying to keep Dean from helping out. Dean knew Dr. Marshall was one of the best they had, but in all honesty, Dean still wasn't exactly sure what it was he did. He had long ago given up listening to Dr. Marshall's lectures on what medication to give to what patient with what symptoms, and the doctor had long ago given up attempting to lecture Dean. 

"You know, you don't seem as passionate about health and care as you say," Marshall once remarked grumpily after Dean failed to answer one of his prompts yet again. 

"Sorry," Dean had said sheepishly. "You know, you're right. I kind of hate it."

Marshall crooked an eyebrow at him, stopping his rummaging through different bottles of pills to stare at Dean. 

Dean narrowed his eyes defensively. "What? The human body is absolutely disgusting. The patients are rude, and the doctors are ruder. There's not much to be passionate about." 

"Okay, you have me at that- but you're wrong in the fact there's nothing to be passionate about." Marshall paused, his eyes twinkling. "The rewards of healing are tremendous. I couldn't imagine anything better than this," the doctor hummed and 'aah'ed when he found the right prescription. 

"Why are you shadowing me then, Dean?" Marshall asked curiously as he wrote the name of the drug down on a form. 

"I don't have a choice. Family business, I suppose," Dean had replied simply. 

\---

Dean waited for the security guard to bent down to take a drink from the water fountain. Taking a deep breath, he used his agility and stealth to walk past the man nonchalantly and snag his keys without making a sound, moving quickly. 

It was after 11:00- Dr. Marshall should have gone home an hour ago, and most hospital staff had quieted down. While a hospital was running a full 24/7, it was definitely easier to sneak around at night. 

He hadn't stolen much from this hospital- only twice in the past couple of months he had been here. He tried to set them up to look like accidents- the first time he stole blood from here, he had managed to take an entire cooler straight out of the Red Cross donation truck and make way with it. 

No one seemed to know where it went off to when they counted only nine coolers when before they had had ten. They shrugged if off as a miscount or some bizarre speculation, but it was forgotten in a few months. 

The second time, Dean had snagged a couple of blood bags when Dr. Marshall had asked him to fetch a bag of AB positive. He almost lost his shadowing position after they realized some bags had been stolen, but Dr. Marshall had defended Dean profusely that they grudgingly allowed Dean to stay. Any more screw ups and he was out. 

Dean realized with a sinking feeling that this might have been his last shift here if he got caught, or if they connected all the mysterious blood bag mishaps and the fingers pointed Dean's way. 

Quickly, Dean found his way to the bottom floor where they stored the bins of blood in a large refrigeration unit. Making sure he had his hood up and his face was turned away from all surveillance cameras, he got to the cooler and quickly tried different keys to the padlock, clicking the right one into place with a quiet pop. 

Dean stepped through the threshold, his breath ghosting on his lips as if an angry spirit were near. Shivering, Dean popped the lid on the nearest cooler, contemplating on how many blood bags he should take before closing the kid and taking the whole thing. There was no point in only taking two or three bags if he was going to get caught. Might as well get off with however many he could. 

It was dangerous, but Dean wasn't too worried. He had, in fact, used a fake name (Dean Smith) and identify, and he was in about an hour and a half out from Sioux Falls. 

It wasn't until Dean turned around, cooler in hand, standing face to face with Dr. Marshall that he knew he was in serious trouble. 

"Man, I really hoped it wasn't you," Dr. Marshall said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

Dean stammered trying to explain himself, but the doctor just shook his head with a disappointed smile on his face. 

He held up a hand. "No, no, I get it. You gotta do what you gotta do. You said you didn't have a choice, didn't you? Something about family business?" 

Dean nodded tersely, and to Dean's surprise, Marshall stepped well out of the doorway of the refrigerated room. Dean cautiously made his way out, the cooler still locked in a death grip in his hand. 

Quietly, Dean handed the keys to Marshall, whom after locking the room back up again pocketed the keys. He gave Dean a genuine, yet sad smile. "See you around, Dean." 

Dean nodded back in acknowledgement without meeting the doctor's eyes. 

Dean did not come back again. 

\---

Gabriel got home from school in record time after the mix up in class. He had barely remembered to wait for his brother to hop into his car, and Castiel had to remind him twice to "please drop me off at the library, Gabriel". 

So Gabriel dumped his little brother on the corner and sped off to their same old yellow house on the back end of their street. 

Of course, the house wasn't exactly 'same old'. The flowers that used to bloom during Gabriel's childhood had long ago wilted after not being cared for, and the roof was missing shingles and the walls needed a paint job and the concrete was cracking at the foundation and- 

The list went on and on. 

Ever since their dad had left them, second oldest Michael had to take the brunt of the bills, the house and car payments, from working two jobs. Raphael, who was in his late twenties, occasionally sent them a hefty check from whatever high-end school halfway across the country he was at, but most of that money was used for food. 

Luke had been working at the same butcher shop for two years now, but no one really knew where the money he made went to. 

Gabriel really couldn't seem to hold down a job. He just got fired from his job at the gas station after being late for the fourth time, but he couldn't help it when he got after school detentions all the time. He really needed to start pinning the blame on Crowley one of these times. 

And Castiel was too in over his head to work. Gabriel didn't want the kid to stress over both school and a job- his own grades suffered enough, and he knew Castiel wanted to graduate with a 4.0. 

Gabriel really needed to get a job, however. 

Sighing, Gabriel pulled the keys out of the ignition and promptly did nothing for the rest of the day. He really should have stayed at the library with his little brother to watch after him, maybe fill out a couple of online job applications. Hell, he still had his old library card in his backpack, and it had been a long time since he had picked up a book. 

He was just about to go given his brother a free ride home when Castiel came in the door. His broken glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and he barely managed to catch them on the way down. 

"What happened to your contacts?" Gabriel fussed, hopping off the couch and taking the glasses from Cas's hands to inspect them. 

"They make my eyes itchy," Castiel grumbled. Gabriel felt a stab of guilt and tucked the glasses into his jacket pocket. "I'll take them to the shop to get them fixed tomorrow after school." 

"But Gabriel! That costs more money than you can afford." Castiel went to take his glasses back but Gabriel skittered away from his younger brother's prying hands. 

"No buts! It's my fault anyway that they're broken. And I still have plenty of back up money I saved up, so it's alright." 

"It's not your fault," Castiel protested, but Gabriel cut him off with a sour scowl. 

Castiel looked like he still wanted to argue, but instead he quietly sat at their old rickety kitchen table and pulled out a small stack of books and a few papers. 

"Are you hungry?" Gabriel asked, pulling open the cupboards and frowning at the contents. 

"Yes. Meg shared some of her lunch with me today since we're out of sandwich bread and meat, but it still wasn't a lot." 

"She didn't share any brownies with you, did she?" Gabriel joked. The dark haired girl was notorious for smoking all sorts of unknown substances under the bleachers and doing other scandalous things. 

He was honestly surprised when Castiel had started hanging out with her, but she apparently wasn't as bad as Gabriel had heard. 

Probably because most rumors about her were started by Crowley, and Crowley wasn't known for being honest. 

Castiel looked a little faint for a moment. "She did share a cookie with me," he mumbled, and Gabriel burst out in laughter. 

The golden haired trickster hummed a happy tune as he cooked up old spaghetti noodles for him and his brother, opening a can of chicken and mixing it in with the noodles after he strained them. 

"Uhh, we're out of sauce, so here's to plain noodles with chicken bits. I think there's still carrots in the fridge," Gabriel said unhappily. He enjoyed cooking, but it was hard getting the right spices and ingredients when they were so starved for money. Raphael really needed to send a check soon. 

Gabriel set a plate in front of Castiel and settled down to gulp down the dry tasting food. 

"So... You make friends with that new kid? What's his name again...?" Gabriel twirled his fork in his pasta, and Castiel looked very unamused. 

"Sam Winchester. Nice aim, by the way." 

"I didn't throw it! Azazel did." 

Castiel looked at his brother through squinted eyes, and Gabriel couldn't sit still. He kicked his legs under the table. 

"He sits next to me in my math class," Gabriel said, stuffing another mouthful of noodles in his mouth, focusing down on his food very intently. 

"I have that class with Meg, but we didn't get partnered together." 

Gabriel felt like this conversation was going nowhere, so he finally blurted, "Can you tell me a few things about him? Sam, I mean. So I can finish the partner assignment we were given." 

Smooooth, Gabriel. Stammer any more and you might as well be announcing your crush to the world. 

"I thought you were supposed to infer things about your partner yourself," Castiel said with a small smirk. 

Fuck. He totally knew. Gabriel rested his head on his hand and groaned. 

"Nevermind, you jerk. I'm going to look like a complete idiot trying to guess his favorite music genre." 

Gabriel stomped up the stairs to his room, and he could hear a small chuckle escape his brother's lips, and Gabriel couldn't help but let a weary smile works it's way onto his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't be afraid to comment, by the way! I love talking to you guys, whether or not it's about the story or not. It really makes my day and helps inspire me to write more. Just so y'all know. Loves!   
> Goodnight Everybody!


	7. Bitter Days and Underdogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, hang in there! This is a long note. You are not inclined to read it except for the trigger warning excerpt. So here we go. 
> 
> You guys D: I'm so sorry. I haven't updated in around three weeks and I'm so so sorry! It's been really rough lately, so before anyone starts complaining or giving me shit, or starts rushing me for the next chapter, please just be happy I'm updating! I lost a great friend this past week and I'm not putting up with bullshit. 
> 
> I also had a hard time getting this chapter out because I just couldn't seem to write it right, so sorry in advance for mistakes and characters that don't sound like themselves. Before I go on anymore.....
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING! This chapter is kind of dark! Partially why I couldn't write it easily!  
> See these? ------> ¥¥¥  
> That's when the bad stuff starts. Look in the tags of this story and if anything in there bugs you, maybe avoid reading that part? It's kind of hard since its part of the story, but if you seriously have PTSD stuff you shouldn't be reading this! You are warned. 
> 
> So, just so everyone knows, this chapter is Destiel centric, so sorry Sabriel lovers. Don't worry. Next chapter will be for the love of all things good-and-Sabriel. 
> 
> LASTLY!!!  
> Some of you might have noticed, but I changed my username! This is because I used my old username for practically everything, and I got paranoid that maybe that wasn't such a good idea. Like maybe people I know in real life would recognize my username and click on my trash story. By the way! If anyone reading this DID recognize my old username before I changed it and realized who I am.... pls never speak of this pls I will die of mortification pls. thank 
> 
> Okay that's about it! Sorry for the long intro. Enjoy this chapter hopefully! Or, don't.  
> Naps and Blooks,  
> NappingStabbingBlooking<3

Castiel was having trouble getting to sleep. 

He rolled over on his creaky twin-bed mattress, pulling the thin sheets up and over his head to tried to focus on the clunky, white-noise sounds of the drier, just a couple of feet away from the other side of the basement. The drier was old, therefore you needed to run your clothes through at least twice before they thoroughly dried. Hence the drier still drying clothes at around one in the morning. 

The Novak's house only had four bedrooms. Two bedrooms, a bonus room, and their parents' old room. 

Back when things used to be okay, Raphael had his own room since he was the oldest and needed his space. Michael and Luke weren't so keen on sharing a room, but at least they had the huge bonus room to themselves. And Gabriel, almost two years old at the time, had his very own room, all to himself. The walls were painted a lime green. 

Gabriel hated the color of the walls. Their parents had painted the rooms when he was only one year old, so he hadn't been allowed to choose what color he wanted like his siblings. 

Of course, Michael and Luke didn't get to choose either because Michael wanted blue walls and Lucifer wanted red. So, the room became purple, because that was only fair, right? 

Five year old Michael had cried because purple was a girl color. Three year old Luke shrugged and scribbled on the walls with red crayons anyways. 

And then Castiel came along. Unable to come up with more spaces, his parents allowed him to stay in their room with him until he was around five, to which they graciously gave him his own room- well, to share. 

Gabriel was not pleased with the news. He threw a tantrum and was stuck in time out for more than twenty minutes. To which he threw another tantrum and got stuck in time out again. It went on for days. 

Castiel, however, did not mind sharing Gabriel's room. He liked the bright green walls, which almost turned yellow when sun shown through the window, and looked forest green at night. 

He was grateful for the belongings he was given- whether he had to share them or not. Having his own room was a magic itself. Toys came few and far between, so Castiel liked playing with imaginary friends and such.

His other siblings were not as happy. Their father, Chuck Novak, was a soon-to-be-popular on the verge of a breakthrough. Or, so he had been saying for about a year now. Castiel wasn't ever sure what his mother used to work as. She wore business clothes and said a lot of big words. 

Anyways. 

The important part was that she brought home enough money to put food on the table after her long days at work. Taking care of four children was hard work, but they pulled it off. 

All up until his mother found out she was pregnant with Castiel. 

Money was then counted out precariously. Every penny and nickel was saved. With an extra mouth to feed, and a new life in the house, stress wore down on the Novak parents. 

Castiel never learned what his mother did for her work because she left their father when he was six years old. Raphael left with her. He was seventeen. 

Now Raphael is almost twenty seven. Michael is twenty two, Luke twenty. Gabriel turns eighteen in the summer next year, and Castiel's birthday is two days from today. 

September 5th, 1999. That fateful day, almost sixteen years ago. 

Castiel hated his birthday. 

And for more than a couple reasons. 

Castiel sighed, giving up with the idea of sleep. He sat up too quick and accidentally banged his head against the chilly walls of the basement, dreading the upcoming winter. Duct tape would not be enough to fix the chill that the cracked, high-up window let in. 

As soon as Raphael left, Luke took over his room. Castiel had hoped for the room to be his, since Gabriel's room was already a little on the small side. Castiel had wanted to say something, but he knew better than to get in Luke's way. 

When Chuck left a few years after their mother, Castiel should have known better. One late night, he had gone into the empty master bedroom with his favorite pillow and a blanket. He promised he was only going to sleep on the floor, since Gabriel was talking in his sleep and keeping him up. 

He was only sniffing his dad's dusty pillow, trying to catch a whiff- and maybe with his scent, Castiel could somehow track him down- 

-but Luke had become so enraged, he had pushed Castiel's bed down the basement steps. It had miraculously survived the trip down, but the dresser didn't fair so well, and neither did the few possessions he did own. 

Castiel didn't leave the basement for a few days after that. Gabriel had tried to invite him back into his old room, but Castiel knew that Gabriel secretly wanted to keep the room to himself. 

So he smiled and said no, the basement was cozier than it looked, and that was that. Castiel also learned to stay out of Luke's way from that point on, because Luke liked to blame him for things that weren't his fault. 

Castiel tried to breathe warm breath into his palms, then moving down to wrap his hands around his ice cold feet, attempting to rub warmth into them. 

He should go get socks. 

However, Castiel did not get up.

Instead, he sat very, very still, holding his breath, and listened. 

A loud thump, followed by a barrage of curses from upstairs confirmed his suspicions. 

His heart sunk as the door to the basement creaked open. Castiel ripped the sheets over his head and pretended to sleep as Luke stumbled down the stairs drunkenly. 

He had been missing for a few days- which was not surprising for him, considering the time of year. 

This was one of the reasons Castiel did not like his birthday. In fact, he didn't even really like the fact that he had been born. He threw away every birthday card his mother sent him after checking the envelopes for money. 

God knows this family needs it. 

Luke stood at Castiel's bedside. He could smell the alcohol radiating off of him from where he lay deadly still, hardly daring to breathe. 

Luke stood there for so long, Castiel began to grow hopeful that no, he was not about to get his ass beaten for something he couldn't help. Distracted, he barely had time to brace himself as Luke finally made his move, ripping the sheets off of him roughly and dragging him out of the bed. 

If he hadn't protected his head, it probably would have cracked open on the cement below. Not that his brother cared or anything. 

Castiel held his tongue as Luke delivered punches and kicks all over his body. It wasn't until he gave Castiel a particularly hard kick to the ribs that he gasped out in pain, trying to find his breath. 

"Luke," Castiel gargled, blood mixing with saliva from a gruesome cut on his lip from one of his brother's studded rings. He got to his hands and his knees when Luke cracked something down on his back, instantly flooring him. 

"You call me Lucifer," his brother said coldly from above, sounding surprisingly more sober than Castiel initially thought. He momentarily forgot his pain as fear settled in instead. 

For Lucifer to be sober and beat him up as harshly as he was, was a terrifying thought to Castiel. As spit and blood drooled from his lips, he wondered if this time around, Lucifer would finally...

Castiel swallowed, too afraid to move again. "Sorry, Lucifer," he ground out. 

He expected another kick, but it looked like he was done with the physical abuse of the night. Instead, he laughed. 

"Oh, Castiel. I know you are. And I know you didn't ask to be born, or wish for both our parents to, uh... Desert us, and all. Happy Birthday, by the way." 

Castiel paused, surprised. Where was Lucifer going with this? Usually he beat him to a pulp, mentally terrorized him while he lay bleeding on the ground, and left him. He never counseled him, or wished him a happy birthday. 

"You didn't mean to become an extra child to take care of. You didn't mean to push mom over the edge, and you didn't mean to make us all give you the portions off our plates, share our toys with you." 

Castiel finally found the nerve to get to his knees timidly again, and Lucifer didn't beat him down. He sat on the edge of his bed, his ice cold eyes boring down on Castiel. 

"You didn't ask to be brought into this world, did you, Castiel?" 

Castiel felt like he was slowly rotting from the inside out. 

"No, Lucifer." 

Lucifer smiled at that, reaching out a hand to pat Castiel on the shoulder. Castiel refrained from flinching away at the contact. 

"Good, good." 

Lucifer got up, stretching his bloody knuckles above his head. He reached behind his back pocket, where Castiel caught sight of gleaming silver. 

He looked on in horror as Lucifer came towards him threateningly with the knife, before flipping it so the handle was towards Castiel. 

"Here. Take it." 

Castiel shook his head rapidly, refusing the knife. 

"Take it, Castiel!" Lucifer commanded, grabbing his arm painfully and putting the knife in his palm, but his fingers just couldn't seem to close around it. 

Lucifer snarled angrily, finally giving up. The knife slid from Castiel's fingers and clattered to the ground. Next thing he knew, Castiel was laying on the cold floor, his head throbbing painfully where Lucifer had hit him, and his vision spinning.

"You didn't ask to be born, but luckily, we are given the power to dictate how we live our lives. Or, you know, end them." 

Castiel was shocked into feeling absolutely nothing. Not the physical, or mental pain. Was Lucifer really suggesting what he think he was? 

"How much blood does a human really need? Pretty selfish of you to keep all that blood to yourself, Castiel. Do yourself a favor." 

Lucifer kicked the knife closer to Castiel, and finally made stepped up the stairs and out of the basement. 

Castiel feebly reached for the knife a few inches from his hand. He gripped the handle so tight he felt his wrist would break. He curled into a tight, shivering ball, clutching the knife and holding it close to his chest, breathing small, shallow breaths. 

\---

When Castiel finally woke up from his numb state of mind, he had to crawl up the stairs of the basement in order to reach the bathroom. He was afraid if he stood, he'd tumble back down the stairs. 

The next thing he had to do was run his hand under hot water until his fingers finally allowed him to let go of the silver knife. 

Then he began dutifully cleaning himself up. Luckily, Lucifer had not hit his face too much, so the evidence was only a busted lip. It looked like it might need stitches, but they couldn't afford that kind of thing, so he left it alone. 

He checked his head where Lucifer hit him, glad to see there was no dried blood in his hair. And if he was lucky, his ribs were only bruised, and not broken. 

¥¥¥

Finally, after putting away all the supplies, all that was left was Lucifer's knife. 

Very slowly, Castiel reached for it, holding it gingerly in his hand. His fingers skimmed across the blade. It was recently sharpened. 

Castiel recalled Lucifer's words. Well, not really recalled, since the words had been bouncing around his head for the past few hours. 

He held up the knife to about eye level, examining it from every angle. He held it up to his throat, but he didn't like the sight of that in the mirror. He positioned it so it was pointing towards himself. He imagined plunging it into his stomach, maybe through his chest, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to make it past his ribs to reach his heart. 

Finally, he found the knife at his wrist, and he trailed it gently, but firmly against his wrist. Little red bubbles of blood beaded from the tiny incision. 

Castiel stared almost in surprise. Was it really that easy..? 

He pressed it against his wrist again, squeezing his eyes shut as he slid it across once more. One more time, and he criss crossed the cuts. A red 'X' formed on the inside of his wrist, like the kind you'd find on a treasure map. 

Castiel stared numbly at his wrist, and suddenly, it dawned on him exactly just what he had done. He quickly turned on the faucet and ran the clean water over his wrist. The sink turned a faint pink in color, and in under a minute, most of the evidence was gone. He grabbed Lucifer's knife and trekked back down the basement steps, dropping the knife behind the clanky drier. 

Out of sight, out of mind. His stinging wrist reminded him about it anyways. He grabbed every bracelet he owned and lined them up on his wrist, a small sense of accomplishment filling him when he saw nothing of the blood on his wrists earlier. Only the beginnings of scabs. 

He climbed back into his bed, this time thankful for the cool pillow that soothed his aching head, and the thin sheets that covered his aching hot body. 

Sleep did not come easy, and every time Castiel thought about the knife behind the drier, he would dig his fingernails into the seeping red lines on his wrist. 

He finally fell into an empty sleep after staining the sheets with drops of red. 

\---

When Dean came into gym class the next day, the sharp smell of rubbing alcohol burned Dean's over-sensitive senses. 

"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted, rubbing at his eyes. Then he looked at his friend, and a mixture of anger and concern came over him in a flash. 

"Who the hell did this to you?" 

Dean had woken up sick that morning. He just couldn't seem to down the animal blood without puking half of it back up, so he came to school looking like he hadn't slept. And Dean thought HE had looked bad! 

Cas looked terrible. His bottom lip was busted and swollen, and his eyes accumulated dark bags under them, which seemed to gray his normally bright blue eyes, (Yet somehow, he was still so damn attractive, Dean couldn't help but think).

And now that Dean's nose had finally gotten used to the scent of the alcohol, he could smell the underlying scent of dried blood and disinfectant as well. 

Castiel looked at Dean with a sharp glance. 

"Was it that Crowley dude I've been hearing about?" 

"I had a harsh encounter with a cabinet," Castiel bit back, and Dean looked at him daftly. 

"Well that cabinet sure does pack a punch, doesn't it?" Dean drawled sarcastically, and Castiel began walking away from Dean apparently done with the conversation. 

Dean's guts twisted and he ran after his friend, grabbing his bracelet covered wrist. Castiel flinched and ripped his hand away from Dean, and in that moment, he looked more menacing than Dean had ever seen him. For awhile now, he thought he was way taller than Castiel, but it looked that way because of his posture, and how he drew in on himself to appear smaller and take the hardest punches. 

Now, he was puffing out to his full height, almost eye level with Dean. 

"Don't touch me," he seethed, cradling his wrist, and Dean took a step back and held up his hands to show he meant to harm. 

"Okay, Cas," Dean said in a calm voice, his green-gray eyes searching in Castiel's vast blue orbs, pleading forgiveness. 

When Castiel realized Dean wasn't going to hurt him, he shrunk back down to his normal posture. 

"You probably need to go to urgent care. For your busted lip," Dean urged, still concerned.

"No," Castiel responded so immediately and fiercely that Dean was too worried to say anything else. 

The rest of gym was awkward. They still didn't need to dress down until Monday, so they were playing a lame version of kickball inside the gym. Dean attempted conversation, and Castiel would respond in guarded, one word answers. 

Finally, it was over. Dean almost forgot to grab his backpack off the bleachers as he caught up to Castiel, who was already heading towards the exit. 

Castiel looked exhausted. He stared warily at Gabriel and his group of friends, and Dean groaned. Against better judgement, the words slipped from Dean's mouth before he could stop them. 

"Dude. At least let me clean you up." 

Castiel looked utterly confused. "W-What?" 

Dean bit his own lip, looking at the split in Castiel's bottom lip. 

"You probably need stitches. I've sewn me and Sammy up enough times to be more than qualified." 

Castiel looked doubtfully at Dean. "You've applied stitches to yourselves before?" 

Dean shrugged. "Got the scars to prove it." 

Castiel looked worried, his hand reaching up to touch his lip. "Are you sure--" 

"Don't touch it!" This time, Dean took Castiel's hand gently, but firmly. Cas gave him a wary look. He didn't pull away this time, yet his hand was limp in Dean's. 

"I um, volenteer at hospitals in my spare time. I've seen and experienced enough to fix you up, easy. Even snagged some medical supplies when the Doc's not looking," Dean said with a wink. 

Castiel still looked doubtful. 

"Come on, we should probably get you fixed up before it gets infected or something." 

Castiel didn't move until Dean tugged him, and with a look over his shoulder, they walked out the back door of the gym. 

It wasn't until they got to Dean's truck that Dean finally released Cas' hand. He acted nonchalant about it, but his face burned in embarrassment as he opened the door for his friend, and then walked over to the driver's side. 

The ride back was awkward, but things seemed better at Bobby's house. 

Castiel's ridged posture relaxed, and soon enough, Dean had Castiel sitting in a chair facing Dean. 

"Alright, buddy," Dean said, cracking his knuckles and grinning confidently. "This is going to hurt like a bitch." 

However, no matter how confident Dean sounded, nothing stopped his hands from shaking as he placed one hand delicately on Castiel's chin, tilting his head so it was turned towards the bathroom light. 

Castiel's damn unnerving eyes did not help. The teen didn't look half as nervous as Dean currently felt. 

"You scared?" Dean tried to make conversation as he cleaned up the wound on his lip as best as he could. He couldn't help but take the opportunity to get away with running one of his thumbs across the uninjured side of his lip. Castiel sighed quietly. 

"No, Dean. I trust you." 

As if Dean's nerves couldn't burst anymore. Standing so close to Castiel, he could smell every fiber of his existence. He smelled... nice. There was honestly no other way to describe it. 

For once, Dean didn't feel like he was the monster he presumed himself to be. 

It was everything he had feared and more- growing close with an innocent human, and putting himself in a situation which involved blood. 

And yes, while the horrifying thought of pinning down the currently defenseless teen and sucking on his currently wounded lip (and maybe ravishing other parts of him as well) sounded more than appetizing to Dean, the simple thought that Castiel trusted him was enough to keep him from going anywhere down that route. 

So with great care, Dean took the sowing needle as gently as he could to Castiel's lip, his other hand cupping his cheek. 

The process didn't take more than two minutes. It was a small cut, so two stitches was all he needed. 

"All done," Dean said casually as he tied the last knot. "These are dissolving stitches, so they'll start to go away on their own in about a week. It's best to let them do their own thing, but if you want them out, come see me. Try to leave them alone for as long as possible. I would try to bandage it, but it's on your lip..." 

Dean slowly faded out of the conversation, shaking his head quickly. Damn it. 

"Anyways! If you see any signs of infection, have any problems at all, you come over here immediately." 

Castiel gave a small nod, still looking shaky yet still surprisingly standing up from the chair. 

Dean stared down at his friend, who was still cradling his wrist. 

"...anywhere else that cabinet might've roughed you up?" 

Castiel smiled wryly, and a choppy laugh escaped his lips. And then he was taking off his shirt. 

Dean took a step back as his face flushed red in embarrassment. 

And then in anger. 

Castiel was a mess. Purple and yellow bruises scattered his chest. A particularly nasty one was almost in the exact shape of a boot. His back was worse. 

"I can't really tell if my ribs are broken or not." 

Dean took a deep, calming breath, inhaling Castiel's comforting scent while he was at it. He couldn't lose control now. There was nothing he could do about it right now except help fix him up. 

He quickly placed his hands along Castiel's ribs and felt along, trying not to make this any more awkward than it already was. He let out a sigh of relief that none of his ribs seemed to have broken entirely. Maybe one was cracked, but there's not much you can do about that except for hope that it heals right.

"And you played kick ball like this??" Dean shook his head, feeling the anger spike in the back of his throat. 

Castiel just shrugged, pulling his shirt back on. Dean didn't know if he should be disappointed or not. 

"Look, you can't go back to school like this. Can I take you home, so you can get some rest?" 

Castiel looked alarmed for a split second, which Dean noticed with narrowed eyes. Son of a bitch. 

He didn't know how a little cockroach such as Gabriel could inflict such gruesome wounds on Castiel, but he could imagine his buddies pounding down on Cas at his command. 

There was no way Castiel's brother had nothing to do with this, not with the terrified face he just made. 

"Uh, or you could stay here awhile. I won't go back to school either; I need to do some work on my truck anyways. You can stay in my room, if you'd like." 

Castiel's head cocked to the side like a confused puppy, and Dean cursed himself. "Or Sam's room. Since Sam's your friend. Or the couch. Wherever you'll feel comfortable." 

And with that, Dean left the bathroom, attempting not to look as stupid as he felt, his face burning red the whole way out. 

There was absolutely no denying it. Dean Winchester really, really liked Castiel. 

He dragged his feet down the stairs, heading out to the garage to scavenge for parts in the new totaled car that just came in. 

Oh god, what would Sam think if he knew he had the hots for his new friend? What if Bobby found out?! 

...Bobby probably wouldn't care, actually. He didn't care when Sam came out to him. He just kind of shrugged and told him, "Well, same rules apply. No screwing in the house." 

Dean nearly flinched at the thought of his father ever finding out about both him and Sam. 

So Dean made a quiet pledge to himself (which he would definitely not break two chapters from now!) to never allow himself to get too close with Cas. He would be friends with him, but nothing past that. 

Let alone being an actual blood-sucking monster, Dean had normal teenage insecurities and issues. He wouldn't try to date him even if he wasn't a vampire. He didn't even know if Cas swung his way, and even if he did, why would he ever like Dean?

So with sagging shoulders, Dean got to work on scavenging the car for parts, unaware that Castiel's eyes were fixed on him from his own bedroom window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright tune in for the next chapter! It'll be out in a week or two, most likely on a weekend. Not this weekend tho im busy >:c  
> Goodnight Everybody!


	8. Hah... yeah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAH im the worst. Sorry for not updating for forever. I'm not dead I promise. Anyways!
> 
> I just got done with winter term for my college and got..... STRAIGHT A's!! :D my hiatus paid off! C: now I'm on spring break, and I'm back to working on my story. Once college starts back up again tho, no promises! 
> 
> Extra long chapter ahead for all of you sorry souls waiting for me to update! Thanks for all the kuddos and love while I was gone!  
> Enjoy!  
> Cake and Lies,  
> NappingStabbingBlooking

Sam greeted Friday morning with a confident look on his face, stretching his arms above his head. 

The night before, Dean had come home with a whole cooler full of blood bags, and he was feeling better than ever, knowing the fridge was stocked up. He wouldn't drink any until Sunday or Monday to conserve the precious liquid, but he felt better knowing that if worse came to worse, they were heavily supplied. 

He felt like approaching the day by promptly punching it in the face so he could just get to the weekend already. 

He felt nervous about going to his last class period, but despite the certain golden shark prowling the waters, he was ready. Screw Gabriel, he could do this! 

The sounds of retching came from the upstairs bathroom a couple doors down. 

"Shit," Sam muttered, his hopes deflating as he tried not to get tangled in the blankets on his bed. 

He pulled on sweats over his boxers and ran down the hall. "Dean??" 

The bathroom door was locked, but light flooded from the bottom. A groan sounded from the other side. 

"Dude, are you okay? Open up." 

Dean mumbled something, and Sam impatiently started banging on the door. 

"Sheesh, okay," Dean grumbled as he unlocked the door, quickly getting back to the toilet where he yet again heaved into the bowl. 

Sam screwed up his nose, but crouched by his brother anxiously nonetheless. "What's wrong?" 

"What does it look like?" Dean spat into the toilet, flushing it and quickly reaching for his toothbrush to scrub the grime off his teeth. 

Sam crossed his arms. 

"Ugh, fine. The uh... animal blood hasn't been going down so easy lately." 

Sam's eyes grew concerned as he watched his brother brush his teeth. That's when he noticed the dark rings around his brother's eyes, and how the muscle tone in his arms looked deflated. Shit, were those his ribs sticking out like that??! 

"You need to be eating more!" Sam pressed, and Dean gave him a crazy look. "Are you crazy? Have you seen the way I eat?" 

That was true. Dean ate every meal as if it were his last. I guess that's how you act after being malnourished most of your childhood. Most of Dean's food usually ended up on Sam's plate, and Sam had felt too hungry to feel guilty about not protesting. 

Anyways. Sam has seen Dean go back for fourths before, so something must've been seriously wrong for him to look this bad. 

Sam rubbed his brow, and Dean stiffly pushed past him to thump down the stairs. He wondered again about Dean's resistance to human blood and if that had anything to do with this. Maybe he should read up on some vamp lore- figure out what exactly might be going wrong. 

The drive to school was uneventful. It wasn't until the tardy bell rang to his first period class that he truly began to realize today would be a bad day. 

Sam: You alright? 

Sam shot a quick text to Castiel, who still had yet to appear in his seat. He looked behind Castiel's seat at Charlie, who only made a face and quickly went back to doing some last minute homework. 

His phone buzzed in his lap and he looked down quickly, fingers brushing over the buttons worriedly. 

Castiel: Yes, Sam, everything is alright. 

Despite his words, Cas didn't show up to class- or to lunch, for that matter. 

"Do you know if he's okay? He doesn't seem like the type to miss school," Sam pondered out loud at the lunch table. He was hyper aware of everything around him in fear of more mashed potatoes flying his way, and his knee bounced impatiently. 

Ash shrugged. "Dunno. He's a pretty chill dude; probably just caught some sort of illness." 

Meg scoffed. "He's not sick. It's his birthday tomorrow," she explained as if her sentence held all the answers in the world. 

Charlie winced next to Sam. "Oh yeah, he does kind of get weird around his birthday. Maybe we could do something nice for him- hold some sort of birthday bash for him." 

Jo perked up, picking an earbud out of her ear. "We could have it at the Roadhouse. My mom owns it, so everything is on us- and afterwards, we could crash at Ash's house, since his parents are seriously the coolest!" 

"Bad idea. What part of 'Castiel hates his birthday' do you not understand?" Meg shot them down instantly. Jo twisted her mouth a bit in a frown. 

"Then why don't we make it a 'back to school' party then and not even mention his birthday? You're always so dramatic," Charlie huffed at Meg, to which the dark haired girl promptly flipped her off. 

"The Roadhouse is a great idea, Jo," Charlie tacked on with an encouraging smile at the blonde haired girl, and Jo gave her a half smile back. 

"I'll text him," Sam offered. "It would probably be best if he heard it from me, since I'm not supposed to have a clue when his birthday actually is." 

Everyone seemed okay with this, so Jo and Charlie quickly planned out the details, and Charlie texted the info to him once everything was figured out. 

Sam spent the rest of lunch taking very careful sips from his blood filled thermos, warily tracking Gabriel and his pack by their scents and sounds, and keeping his eyes locked on the doors as people exited and entered the cafeteria. He was very aware of the fact that Dean seemed vacant from the building. 

\---

Sam breezed through his other classes. It wasn't until he found himself in his last period, sitting next to a twitchy Gabriel, that his throat grew awfully dry, and he began to feel hot and sweaty all over. 

"Alright everyone, you all know the assignment. Switch lists with your partner and clear up any wrong assumptions. I want you to read chapter three, sections one through four by Monday, and then we'll go over it all next week. Finish your work and you can have free time to do whatever, as long as it isn't distracting your classmates. Disperse." 

Mr. H sank into his chair and kicked his feet up onto his desk, quickly scanning through a mess of papers in his hands. 

He looked up from his papers with a scowl on his face. "Well, get! I want all your lists when you're done with them, too," he said, patting an empty spot on his desk. 

At first, no one moved, but begrudgingly people began swapping lists. The assignment looked to be more fun than it first was assumed, because laughs were soon traded around the classroom. 

Sam quickly pulled out his crumpled list of Gabriel assumptions, and felt a quick pulse of anxiety run through him as he smoothed it out and pushed it across the desk to his side. He half expected Gabriel to crumple the list and throw it across the classroom to the trash. 

Gabriel looked nonchalant, holding a half eaten crunch bar in one of his hands. He casually swept Sam's paper up and held it almost delicately as he read through it. Sam held his breath. 

"You think I'm a cat person?" Gabriel scoffed. 

Sam shrugged. 

"Frankly, I'm offended." Gabriel pushed a hand to his chest dramatically. "Wait, what did you scribble out there?" His golden eyes squinted as he attempted to read the distorted writing. 

"Oh. Um, dog?" Sam tried, rather bleakly. He wasn't sure what Gabriel was pulling. He expected pranks and shit talk, not- this. Whatever this was. 

Still, however, Sam would be lying if his heart didn't flutter at the sparkle in his golden eyes. 

"Dogs are pretty great. But I would have to say, the platypus definitely holds first place in my heart." 

Gabriel quickly made his way down the list, commenting on one thing or another, laughing with mirth at some of the guesses Sam had come up with, to which Sam would make one or two word responses back to. 

"Mm, I do have a brother, but that's not really an assumption. Since you've met him and all." 

Sam shrugged once more. He was suspicious at first of Gabriel's knowledge, but it hit him that not only had Sam been sitting at Castiel's table, but Castiel might have told Gabriel about him, which caused a hot flush to seep across his face. 

All in all, things were going relatively okay, despite the occasional awkward pauses. 

It wasn't until the bottom of the list that things got weird. 

"Am I Christian?" Gabriel read aloud slowly, and then burst out laughing. "Oh, sheesh. Nope. No way. My parents were." A look that Sam couldn't quite read crossed his face, but it was gone in a flash. "But I would lean more to agnostic than atheist," he added on tactfully. 

Gabriel's next words were almost accusative. 

"How'd you know my blood type?" 

"Didn't know. Guessed." Sam met Gabriel's eyes for the first time that day as he lied through his teeth. He held his pencil so tight he thought it might break. 

Gabriel's mouth twitched in response, and Sam wondered if he was trying to hold in any rude comments. He had been surprisingly... Civil, this whole period. Wasn't he supposed to be an asshole or something? 

Sam was beginning to feel that hating Gabriel had been much easier when he was actually a dick. Now, all Sam could feel was that damned backstabbing fire of hope, burning hot embers in his gut whenever Gabriel looked at him or smiled. 

Silence fell between them, and Sam cleared his throat and (against better judgement) finally spoke up. Damn his curiosity. 

"So uh... Where's my list?" 

Gabriel laughed nervously. Nervously?? When did he ever get nervous?

"Well uh... Actually, I never really got to it. Help me out?" 

Sam shifted in his seat. "Er.. Sure?" Damn it! He had meant to say no. 

"I'll just ask you questions, and you respond however way you feel. Whatever floats your boat." 

Sam waited anxiously as Gabriel tapped his fingers on his chin ponderously. 

"Favorite candy?" 

"I don't really have one." 

Gabriel looked horrified. "What do you mean, don't have one?" 

"I don't know. I don't like candy much." 

"You have to have one." 

Sam broke the intense eye contact Gabriel was giving him and sighed. "Fine. Cotton candy." 

Gabriel stole Sam's pencil right out of his hands and scribbled something down on the paper, and Sam struggled not to react. 

"I said cotton candy, not Twix," Sam pointed out and reached for his pencil back, and Gabriel promptly swatted his hand away. "It's all for show! These are assumptions, aren't they?" He said cheekily, and Sam glared at him half heartedly. 

"Then why did I need to tell you what my favorite was if you were just going to put something else down instead?" 

"Insurance." 

Gabriel held up his hands in mock defeat at the scalding glare Sam had given. 

"Fine, fine," and the smile on his face nearly evaporated Sam's killer look. 

"Have a girlfriend?" 

Sam stared as blankly as he could at Gabriel. 

"Boyfriend?" 

Shit. Did he just wink? 

He totally just winked. 

Sam felt his face heat up, and as if things couldn't get worse, Gabriel fluttered his eyelashes seductively and knocked knees with Sam under the table, resting his head on his hand and leaning a little too close. 

"W-What are you playing at?" Sam stuttered, leaning far back in his chair. He had gone too far, and he felt his face was a hot red mess of embarrassment. 

Gabriel smirked, pulling back. "I thought I was the questioner, Sammy. I ask, you answer." 

Sam felt the urge to tell him not to call him that, but he felt Gabriel would just enforce the nickname. He still felt a decent amount of distrust towards the golden menace, but Sam couldn't help but feel drawn to him, like a moth to the light. He knew his defenses were down, by flirting- they were flirting, right? so shamelessly with this guy, but he trusted Castiel and the feelings deep in his gut, screaming that Gabriel wasn't half a bad a guy as he seemed. 

The rest of the period consisted of careful, but playful banter between the two, as Sam began to warm back up to Gabriel. 

\--- 

The bell rang, and Sam left the classroom in a daze. He felt like he was on cloud nine. He hadn't expected his last period to go so well, and now he was floating down the school halls. 

He was relieved that his primal instincts had seemingly calmed down- not once did he worry about his fangs unsheathing during class, but Gabriel was still tantalizing as ever. At least he was beginning to grow used to his sweet scent. 

Of course, that didn't mean he didn't want him any less. He imagined the ideal relationship between them- sharing a Saturday afternoon at an ice cream parlor, or maybe going out to a movie and holding hands the whole time. God knows he imagined things involving Gabriel's mouth- it was torture watching him work a lollipop down to the core during class, or the occasional slurping noises Sam couldn't escape, even halfway across the lunchroom. 

And then there were the disturbing thoughts- the ones that Sam couldn't escape, even in his dreams. The thoughts that were so wrong, that they felt right. Stalking Gabriel down a dark alley, or through a forest. Watching his bright, golden eyes as they shone with fear, even through the moonless night. Pinning him down on the ground, and the excitement of a fight, only to rip him apart beneath him. Watching the light drain from his eyes, his skin grow pale from the blood loss, he would gurgle and try to cry out in pain, but his throat was already torn out, and he would drown in his own blood. 

He gave a tired sigh, closing his locker door and leaned against it. He woke up from those dreams crying, and it wasn't from the scene- no, it was the fact that deep down, he took pleasure in it all. He was sick, and his instincts begged him to track Gabriel's unbelievably sweet scent and just take him for all he was worth then and there. 

Sam banished the thoughts from his head, yet again pushing his problems away once they got too scary to handle. He dialed Dean's number and pressed the phone to his ear. 

Dean picked up on the second ring.

Except the voice on the other end was not Dean. 

"Hello, Sam." 

"Castiel?? What- How do you have Dean's phone?" 

"It's a long story. Dean is... Busy. I'm at your house now, actually." 

Sam sat, quietly stewing in anger. How could Dean get pissed about bringing Cas over, but then pull the same exact shit? 

Maybe it was the fact that even after all this time, Dean had not had even as much as a drop of human blood, and here was Sam, guzzling blood bag after blood bag. Sam shook his head in distress and guilt. Castiel interrupted his thoughts. 

"I was wondering if you could ask Gabriel to come pick me up. I know you share your last period with him, and it would be greatly appreciated." 

"Well what about me? Is Dean coming to pick me up?" 

"He's busy. But Gabe could give you a ride." 

Sam could hear the smirk in Castiel's voice. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. 

"I swear, if this is some sort of ploy..." 

"See you in a few," Castiel said shortly and hung up. 

Sam pocketed his phone and hurried through the halls after where he had last seen Gabriel's golden head disappear. He turned down one wall, doubled back, rounded one more corner and ran into someone so hard the other person was knocked flat on their ass. 

"Oh my god I'm so sorry are you okay-" 

Sam attempted to help the other up, but the furious look on his face as he tore his arm away from Sam's grip was a clear enough message on its own. 

The short fellow brushed off his black pants, black coat, black everything, and suddenly Sam was surrounded from all sides by the jocks who had been making his life hell for the past three days. Sam realized who he as in accompany of, and quickly drew in on himself, eyeing the dark leader warily. 

He recognized Gabriel's sweet scent among them, and he slowly turned to evaluate the circle. Gabriel didn't move, other than the small flick of his eyes, and while his posture looked casual, Sam could hear the rapidly inclining beat of his heart. 

"Bumbling idiot! Although, what else would you expect from Brookside's newest addition?" 

This was the first time Crowley had spoken to Sam directly, and he was a bit surprised to hear such a strong British accent come from the shorter student. Nonetheless, Sam knew Crowley was bad news, and it was definitely time to go. 

"Excuse me, but I was in a hurry. Looking for someone," Sam said with a slight edge to his voice, his eyes slicing over to meet Gabriel's almost coldly. He held his gaze for a serious short moment, but everyone got the message. 

"What do you need him for?" Crowley asked, raising his eyebrows at Gabriel, interested. 

Sam opened his mouth, but Gabriel's voice came out faster. 

"Probably got hungry. Needs a second serving of mashed potatoes." 

The others laughed, and Sam felt his heart grow cold, and all good feelings about the afternoon evaporated. Castiel was wrong, his gut was wrong. But Gabriel's scent never turned sour. 

"I think he's hungry for something else. Should've seen them nearly getting it on in math class," the guy who smells like mildew and mold snarked. 

Crowley turned an interested eye to Gabriel. "Is this true?" 

"Does it matter?" Sam cut in, turning shortly to address Gabriel coldly. "Castiel needs you to pick him up. He's at Singer's Salvage Yard. You can find it on a map. Now if you'll excuse me..." 

Sam needed to leave before any of them decided to start anything. He could take them all on easily, but he was more afraid of exposing himself for what he really was, and losing control. And if any blood was spilled, Sam knew in the heat of the moment he wouldn't be able to stop himself. 

Besides, he was also very wounded by Gabriel's words. He had honestly thought more of him, but it was true: Gabriel was a coward. 

Sam quickly sidestepped through the circle, and someone instantly tried to catch him by the arm. He responded by punching them in the face. So much for no violence. 

Angry yells and advancing footsteps informed him he was getting chased.

He broke out into a run and tore through the school. If he could find an exit, he could book it home. He rounded a few sharp corners and ducked into a bathroom. Thunderous footsteps continued down the hall, and after awhile, it grew quiet. 

He waited for a few good minutes before cautiously stepping out and hurrying back down the hall. He hoped desperately that none of them were smart enough to block the exits and corner him. 

He had almost reached the double doors that led outside when someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him into an empty classroom. 

Sam popped them square in the nose. 

His offender crashed into a desk, holding his face. 

"Yeah, okay, I deserved that one," Gabriel groaned, still holding his nose, one hand held out protectively incase Sam decided one hit wasn't enough. 

"What the hell are you doing??" Sam nearly shouted, just remembering to keep his voice down. 

"Trying to help you." 

The words sounded so sincere that Sam lowered his still raised fists, and he slowly calmed down. 

"Well, I could have used that help, I don't know, in the lunchroom. By stopping the potato thrower. Or maybe standing up for me earlier." 

Gabriel grew uncomfortable and scratched the back of his arm. "Well, I was just trying to-" 

"I know what you were trying to do. Look," Sam said, rubbing his eyes tiredly, feeling overwhelmed at the moment. "Let's just go get your brother, okay? He's at my house, actually." 

"What? He skipped school?" 

Sam shrugged, and Gabriel scowled, growing a tad impatient. 

"Stop shrugging. You can't just respond in non-verbals half the time." 

Sam raised his shoulders to shrug, but caught himself as Gabriel's eyes dug daggers into him. 

After they waited a few more minutes for things to quiet down, the duo snuck out and quickly piled into Gabriel's car. Gabriel twisted the keys and then they were off, Sam giving simple directions to Bobby's house, and sinking back into the seat. 

"You don't mind if we make a pit stop, do you? I need to take Cassie's glasses to the shop." Gabriel gestured to the glove box, and Sam opened it. Sure enough, tucked inside was a small plastic baggie holding the remains of Castiel's poor glasses. Sam pulled the bag out and tossed it up on the dashboard. 

The windows were down, and while Sam's hair looked like it had gone through a hurricane, Gabriel's gently swayed with the wind. He looked... In his element, with his arm resting on the open window, one hand holding the wheel steady. 

Sam enjoyed the silence, surprised that Gabriel was able to hold his tongue for so long. 

"I'm sorry. For... Well, everything so far." 

Jinxed it. Sam looked over at Gabriel again, but didn't say anything in response. 

Gabriel's eyes tracked the group of kids crossing the road in front of them. 

"I have no excuse. I'm a coward for not standing up to Crowley. Honestly, I don't know what I'm so afraid of. I could kick his ass. I want to, half the time I'm around him." 

Sam tried to smooth down his hair against the wind. "Why'd you make friends with him, then?" 

"He wasn't always that way." Gabriel sounded defensive. 

"I made friends with him a long time ago. Junior high. Back then, we were the outcasts." Gabriel shook his head. "When shit went down, things changed for him. And when he came out on top, I guess he changed too." 

"That could have been the most vague explanation ever," Sam replied dryly, and Gabriel gave Sam a smile dripping with sarcasm. "Kid, you're lucky you GOT an explanation." 

Sam tsked and looked back out the window. 

"You missed the turn." 

"Wha- Well, why didn't you tell me I had to turn??!"

\---

Gabriel pulled up in the driveway, turning the car off before he made a complete stop. The car made some ugly noises and jerked forward. 

He cussed, climbing out of the car, and before Sam could even open his own door Dean had already marched over and punched Gabriel in the face for the second time today. 

Sam was just glad he hadn't hit Gabriel with the wrench he was holding in his other hand. 

"Fuck! You Winchesters pack a tough punch," Gabriel groaned once more, bringing his shoulder to his face to wipe his now pinkish cheek. 

"Wasn't nearly tough enough," Dean growled out, slamming Gabriel up against the car. 

"Dean! What's going on?" Sam quickly pushed his way in between his brother and Gabriel, who was surprisingly holding his ground, a defiant look on his face. 

"Why don't you ask him? Ever wonder why Cas didn't show up to lunch?" 

Sam looked between the two, still hesitant to move from Gabriel's way incase Dean took another swing. 

Gabriel popped his head up over Sam's shoulder, keeping his distance from Dean, who was looking downright murderous. 

"Actually, I have no idea why Cassie skipped. I mean, I know he gets iffy near his birthday, but I don't think 'school' and 'skip' are apart of his vocabulary- at least, they're never used in the same sentence.

"In fact, I'm actually kind of worried about him. But I fixed his glasses up for him, so..." Gabriel twisted around and pulled out the new pair of glasses he had just purchased. 

"Well, not really fixed. I had to buy a completely new pair, but it can count as my birthday present to him, I guess," Gabriel rambled as he grew increasingly twitchy at the tension in the air. 

Dean looked utterly confused. He blinked twice, and then took a step back. 

"Gabriel?" 

Castiel stood in the entrance to Bobby's house. Sam winced at the heavy scent of rubbing alcohol- and luckily, it almost completely drowned out the scent of dried blood, crusted on Castiel's carefully stitched lip. 

Sam's mouth fell open. His mind reeled as he attempted to figure out what happened, but his eyes met with Dean with a look that said, 'We'll talk later'. Sibling telepathy and all. 

"Cassie!" Gabriel's grin fell short as his own brother grew closer. "Bro, what happened to your lip? Are those stitches!?" 

"It's no problem, really!" Castiel protested. "Dean fixed me up. There is no need to worry." 

Gabriel didn't even hesitate a moment, as if they were having a polite conversation over brunch. "Yeah, well a little warning would be appreciated. Let me know in advance when you next feel the urge to make out with a weed whacker." 

Castiel smiled meekly, and Sam stuffed his hands in his jean pockets awkwardly. The sunlight was beginning to break through then clouds, and Sam hadn't applied any sunscreen this morning. He winced uncomfortably. 

The two pairs of brothers stood quietly for a few extra seconds and Gabriel clasped his hands together. 

"Well! This has been a... moment. But Cas and I really should be going home now. Oh, I almost forgot." Gabriel handed Castiel his new pair of glasses, and Castiel's face lit up like a Christmas tree. However, he quickly looked crestfallen, as he tried to hand them back to his brother. 

"These must've cost you everything you had. Gabriel, you shouldn't have-" 

"Nonsense! Besides, it's not like I can give them back. Didn't keep the receipt." 

Castiel gave Gabriel a stern look, but donned the glasses nonetheless with a giant grin on his face. 

Dean coughed, and Sam kicked at the gravel coating Bobby's driveway. Gabriel popped open the driver's seat and Castiel crossed around to join him shotgun. 

"See you around, Sammy!" Gabriel winked at Sam, and Castiel gave both brothers a small wave and smile. 

Before either Winchesters could get in another word, Gabriel had pulled out of the driveway and drove away with a couple of farewell honks. 

"What the hell just happened?" Sam asked, still staring dumbly after the Novaks. 

"No idea," Dean grumbled, apparently back in his bad mood. He quickly walked back to the house to avoid the sun, and Sam stayed put on the driveway, staring blankly at the spot the Lincoln had been parked previously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't be afraid to comment, i get so lonely and i love it when you guys talk to me <3


	9. It'll All be Over Soon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I don't really have anything to say much. Other than its super freaking hard to write fluff. Here's a fun fact about me! ...I've never had a significant other! I mean, I've had boyfriends and girlfriends and I've kissed before, but it's never really stroked a chord in me. I've always been SUPER independent and I rEaLlY hate prolonged physical contact. I don't really like hugs, cuddles, ect. Which makes it hard to write, because I've never shared those kinds of feelings with others before. I don't know, maybe I just haven't found the right person yet or something ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Either way! Hope I wrote this chapter okay for the lot of you! Sorry for over-sharing! 
> 
> (Emotional Not Physical) Hugs and Kisses,  
> NappingStabbingBlooking! 
> 
> Edit: OH AND BY THE WAY IF YOU SEE ANY MISTAKES PLEASE POINT IT OUT SO I CAN FIX IT I WOULD REALLY 'PPRECIATE IT THANKS <3

Castiel had to refrain from licking his lips on the ride home from Sam and Dean's house. His lip throbbed, and he felt hot all over- almost feverish. He really hoped he wasn't getting sick. 

The moment they got home, he planned on painfully making his way down the stairs and sleeping away the whole weekend. Hopefully he could avoid Lucifer this way as well, but Castiel was almost sure he wouldn't be seeing him anyways- he would most likely be crashed at Balthizar's house this weekend- or maybe Lilith's, in the case they were dating at the moment. They had an off again on again relationship. 

However, to Castiel's dismay, Gabriel took the exit right before their own and swung by the public library, practically kicking Castiel to the curb. 

"Gabriel, I don't need to be here today," Castiel protested, but Gabriel leaned over Castiel's lap and pushed the door open for him. 

"Oh. You don't? Well, it's too late now. Go read a book or something! Pick you up at four, byeeeee!" 

Castiel crawled out of the car to avoid Gabriel pushing him out, and watched the golden Lincoln take off. 

Trying not to feel too angry with his brother, Castiel brushed a hand through his blackish hair and headed into the library. 

Thankfully, it was a quiet setting. He was grateful that Gabriel didn't leave him out on the streets, at least. 

He headed deeper into the building and set up home on his usual comfy chair by the window, spreading his math textbook across his lap as he decided to make good use of his time here. 

Castiel knew his brother well enough that he had dropped him off to make some little surprise for him, and needed some time to pull it off. It was probably some sort of attempt at getting Castiel to enjoy his birthday, since Gabriel made his efforts every year. Castiel knew he couldn't escape Gabriel and his torment, but this time he just hoped this time, it didn't have anything to do with live animals or cold water. Don't ask. 

Castiel was just about to start reading up on his math when his phone buzzed on the arm of the chair. 

Sam: Hey buddy. Hope my brother didn't do too horrible of a job stitching up your lip 

Castiel's face grew sickeningly red at the thought, and couldn't help but think about Dean's hands on his face, on his lips... 

Dean was amazing. How could anyone NOT have a crush on him? He was stunningly attractive, and had a beautiful smile- when he wasn't pouting about one thing or another. He was also carefully guarded, and Castiel couldn't help but fantasize breaking Dean's walls down and learning every little thing about him. Dean was a puzzle begging to be solved. And fuck if Castiel didn't love a good mystery to be solved. Another buzz distracted Castiel's sinful thoughts. 

Sam: Forgot to tell you that Jo's holding a little back to school party tomorrow at the Roadhouse where her mom works. Then over to Ash's house for sleepover

Castiel tried to surprise a groan. Yet another ploy to try to discreetly celebrate his birthday. Either way, Castiel would be grateful for time away from his house. Especially if Lucifer WAS home... 

Castiel: What time? 

Sam: Be at the Roadhouse at 4:00. We stay there however long we like, then we'll go to Ash's house whenever 

Then immediately, another text. 

Sam: Dean is coming too, by the way. Wants to meet the rest of my friends. 

\---

Sam was sitting on the table counter, kicking his legs and drinking a cold smoothie he mixed up himself. He smiled devilishly at his brother, who was chilling in Bobby's kitchen with a beer in hand. 

"Hey Dean, what do you think about a party at the Roadhouse? You've been there before." 

Dean looked up from his phone. "What kind of party?" 

"Oh, nothing much. Just a little get together with a few friends from school, thought you'd want to meet them. Jo's mom owns the place." 

Dean rolled his eyes. "I don't want to be your baby sitter- or worse, your designated driver for the night." 

Sam suspected this response. But now, to test his brother for what he had been suspicious of... 

"...well, I just thought you might want to come. Castiel will be there," Sam offered loosely, and in the corner of his eye Sam saw Dean sit up straighter. 

"Uh... Well, I do need to check on his stitches... So I guess I could spare the night," Dean threw back somewhat clumsily, his face tinged with a small hint of a blush. 

Sam nodded matter-of-factly, trying not to grin into his phone. Sam could have checked Castiel's stitches no problem- but Dean was ready to cancel all of his scandalous Saturday night plans and go out of his way to check on Castiel? 

He was so game. 

Sam sent one last text to Castiel. 

Sam: but mostly I think he just wants to see more of you. 

\---

About an hour and a half later, Castiel was being shaken awake by the kind librarian, who knew him by name. She quietly lifted a finger and pointed outside where Gabriel's golden car waited almost impatiently. 

Heaving a giant sigh, Castiel drowsily packed up his things and once again clambered into Gabriel's car. 

"Sup, little bro!" Gabriel looked giddy with excitement. Castiel blinked the sleep from his eyes. 

Castiel looked through his phone while Gabriel haphazardly drove them home. Seeing the messages from Sam made him go red in the face, and worse- the unknown number that had texted him. 

???: hey, its dean 

???: mightve swiped your number from sammy's phone when he wasn't looking

???: oh man dont tell him i did that pleass

???: please 

Trying not to laugh, Castiel imputed Dean into his contacts. 

Castiel: I won't tell him. 

Castiel: I heard that you were going to the Roadhouse tomorrow for the back to school party? 

Dean didn't respond instantly, so Castiel stuffed his blocky phone back in his pocket the moment Gabriel swung into the driveway. 

Castiel looked up at the house nervously, expecting only the worst of Gabriel's surprises. 

"Come on, come on!" Gabriel whined, already jumping out of the vehicle and trying to pull Castiel's injured body out. 

After lots of pushing and shoving, Gabriel herded Castiel until he was standing just outside of Gabriel's room. 

"Tada!" Gabriel nudged the door open, and Castiel's breath caught in his throat. 

His bed- the one from the basement- was pressed into the left corner of the room, and his dresser wedged beside it, where Gabriel's desk used to sit since Castiel had first been booted out of the room. 

The sheets were made and the few valuables Castiel owned were lined orderly along the window sill. 

Castiel turned to his brother, who was giddy with excitement. 

"I just thought... You know, I know it's gonna be cold this winter, and it's no secret to me that you spent the colder nights on the couch..." 

"I thought you hated sharing a room with me." Castiel didn't know what to think, or what to say. His throat welled up with emotion, and he hoped his face was its normal stoic way. 

"Pfft, it's not that bad. I didn't need my desk anyways; god knows I never use it." This was true. Gabriel never did his homework. He did occasionally use it when he was drawing, but Castiel knew his brother was more comfortable on his bed with a sketchbook. 

"What about Luke?" Castiel had a hard time getting the name out. 

"Oh, whatever! I can take him." Gabriel raised his fists as if to prove his point. "Besides, Michael's the boss of the house. He gave permission. Right Michael?" Gabriel shouted through the thin walls, and what sounded to be a grunt of approval sounded on the other side. Michael was trying to catch up on a few hours of sleep before he went to work another graveyard shift, so that left little room for socializing. 

Castiel was running out of reasons for why he shouldn't stay in Gabriel's room. Honestly, he was delighted at the thought of sharing a room again, but... 

"Oh, sheesh! I went to all this trouble to pull your stuff up from the basement and this is the thanks I get? It's only for the winter, I promise! Once it starts to warm up again, you can banish yourself back to the depths. Now will you just hurry up and accept your present already?" 

Castiel reluctantly slid into their old room, kicking his shoes off and piling into his bed. He let out a muffled "thank you" from under the covers. All too soon, the comfort of being surrounded by warmth made him drowsy. 

He toyed with the bracelets lining his wrist- a rainbow friendship bracelet Charlie had made him, a leather one from Meg. The Game of Thrones bracelet that Sam had pointed out, and a few other nondescript bands. 

Hidden underneath were the bandages, hiding the cuts he had inflicted upon himself. Immediately he felt sickened upon the thoughts that Lucifer had drove into his head, and he pressed his thumb nail into the cuts, focusing only on the pain it brought. 

The pain gave him a physical sense of gratification, letting him block out any thoughts of what tomorrow had to bring him. 

\---

Castiel woke up the next day around eleven o'clock, groggily wiping his eyes. He usually never slept in this late, but he felt the injuries his body sustained had something to do with that. 

Monotonously, Castiel slipped out of his bed, trying to overcome the slight deja vu from waking up in his old room. 

He looked to the right. Gabriel's bed was messy, but his brother wasn't there. He was a morning bird, but that was only because he hardly slept anyway. Up with the moon, up with the sun. 

Castiel was neither. He didn't know how his brother managed. Probably the pot of coffee he downed every morning, which Castiel could smell brewing even at the moment. 

His body ached and screamed as he struggled to sit up. His lip throbbed, inflamed. 

Letting himself ease back into his bed, Castiel noticed a bottle of ibuprofen sitting innocently on his dresser, a cup of water next to it. 

Popping four down his throat, Castiel dozed in bed, refusing to get up and face the facts. 

It was his birthday today. He was officially sixteen. 

And his friends were putting on a fake back-to-school party, which was a birthday party for him in disguise. 

He ran a hand down his face tiredly. He should probably cancel on them. There was no reason to celebrate anything today. 

A small, betraying voice pipped up in the back of his thoughts. 

'Dean will be there.'

As the drugs worked their way into his system, Castiel finally gathered the strength to roll out of bed and take the hottest damn shower he could. 

The water seared his slowly healing cuts and bruises, but Castiel stood under the streams and did his best to wash his broken body. 

He put bandaids and the gauze pads Dean had lent him over the worst of his wounds, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. 

Despite getting more than twelve hours of sleep, he was looking worse for wear. His black hair was tussled in an unusually messy manor, poking this way and that. His face looked worn, and the bags under his eyes were a darkish purple. 

Tiredly pulling on a black sweater and dark jeans, Castiel pulled the sleeves down over his already cold and clammy hands. When stretched, the sweater exposed his sharp collar bones, but Castiel couldn't find it anywhere in himself to care. It was comfy. He backed out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, where Gabriel was flipping pancakes. 

Normally, Castiel would be grateful for them, but today they left a bad taste in his mouth. Not that Gabriel's cooking was terrible, but having cheap pancake mix every day for nearly a month was getting old. 

Apparently, the same didn't go for Gabriel, who whistled a tune as he flipped another couple of pancakes onto Castiel's plate. 

"Eat up! You need to put on a couple extra pounds if you plan on hibernating the whole winter." 

Castiel gave him a dry look, purposefully pushing the plate away. Gabriel grinned, obviously not done teasing him as he looked Castiel up and down. 

"Why, Cassie! You're looking lavishly dressed up for a boring Saturday afternoon. You aren't... planning on going to a little get together with all your friends including one very brilliant and attractive Sam Winchester with his moody brother at the Roadhouse later this evening, are you?" 

Castiel blinked warily. "How did you know?" 

Gabriel dangled Castiel's phone in front of his face, and Castiel snatched it away. 

"You're not coming," Castiel said the same exact time Gabriel began to beg him with little to no dignity. 

"Please?? I promise I won't cause too much trouble!" Gabriel looked at him with puppy eyes, slowly deteriorating Castiel's hard posture. 

"My friends think you're an asshole. You ARE an asshole," Castiel corrected himself, and Gabriel collapsed onto his knees on the floor, folding his hands together as if in prayer. 

"I know I am! I want to do better. I need to make up for things. I just want to keep an eye on you and make sure you're alright." 

"All the while eye-fucking Sam Winchester in the process." Castiel said sarcastically, and Gabriel stood suddenly and slid into the chair beside him, completely serious. 

"Listen. I know I haven't been the best brother in the world," he admitted. "I've shoved you under the bus for my better interests more times than I can count. I thought I could ignore it, but I can't just sit around while you get beat up by Crowley. He's crossed the line," Gabriel sighed, tapping his lip where Castiel's was stitched. 

Castiel stirred in his seat. Gabriel didn't give himself enough credit- he had almost always been there for him, despite it being his fault for the corruption of their family. He worked a job so Castiel could focus on school, and just spent the last of his money on. 

It hadn't been Crowley who had given him the bruises, but he could get away with letting Gabriel think that. Besides, it wasn't like he wasn't getting tormented at school too. He felt bad for not coming clean about his lip, but he couldn't bring himself to out Lucifer. 

Not when it was his fault in he first place. 

Gabriel continued on. "Look, I'll give you a ride to the Roadhouse. I'll go sit in a dark corner and hang out there, and let you hitch a ride with your buddies to Ash's house. I swear I won't even think about Sam. If you want to come home early, hit me up, and I'll be there." 

Castiel pretended to think, tapping his fingers on his chin. His brother was a good guy, and honestly he was glad that he seemed to be crushing on someone other than Kali. She wasn't good for him. But Sam... 

"Alright, you can come. But you need to apologize to all my friends for terrorizing them and hanging out with assholes." 

Gabriel responded with a happy whoop, "Will do!" He jumped up and happily continued on his merry own little way. 

Sam was a good person, Castiel thought. He was kind and honest. He would do good for Gabriel, if he hadn't already. 

Sam was a good person. 

\---

When Gabriel pulled up to the Road House, Castiel was already feeling rather daunted. He just wanted to go home, curl up in bed, and sleep forever. He pulled the sleeves of his black hoodie tighter around his hands, willing the cold to go away. 

The loud atmosphere of the Road House didn't help much to soothe his headache, but he was thankful for its dark, warm, and cozy setting. He hadn't been to the Road House since he first met Ash and Jo his freshman year, but nothing about it seemed to have changed. 

Still, a tug of anxiety swept down his back and tugged at his heart. He twiddled with his bandages as he hung in the door way, Gabriel tapping his foot impatiently behind him. 

"Cas! Hey, Castiel!" 

Castiel swung his head back and forth as he tried to locate the voice, and suddenly, there was Sam. 

"Hey, buddy-" 

Sam's greeting was cut off as he did a double take as he saw Gabriel. His posture grew ridged, and Gabriel gave him a Cheshire Cat grin. 

"Oh- uh, hi. What are you doing here? What is he doing here?" Sam added in a quieter, hissed out voice to Castiel. 

Castiel shrugged. "You brought Dean, so I brought Gabriel." 

Sam looked mildly distressed, but smiled weakly at his friend nonetheless. "Uhh... Okay then, I guess." Sam noticeably stiffened as Gabriel drifted from his spot next to Castiel and practically glued himself to Sam's side. 

"It'll be alright. Let's go." Castiel nudged Sam, and with one last long look at Gabriel, Sam led the duo further into the Road House. 

\---

Sure enough, dinner had been awkward. As predicted, Castiel's friends had shown much distaste towards Gabriel. 

But slowly, over the course of the meal, the group had began to warm up to him as they saw him light-heartedly interact with his brother, without the influence of Crowley's gang. 

Now, everyone had retreated to Ash's house, finally winding down for the night. 

Quiet murmurs sounded from the dark living room, with a sci-fi movie rumbling beyond that. 

Dean had retired to the kitchen, finally getting away from the overwhelming amount of new frie- no. People. Not friends. 

The angst-riddled vampire attempted to drown his sorrows by cracking yet another beer over the counter top, hissing in distaste as it sloshed onto his hands. 

Dean leaned against the fridge and slowly diminished his drink, becoming more and more sullen as his stomach clenched unhappily at the new intake of liquid. It gurgled in vain, and his throat became itchy as one of his night fevers came on. 

Stubbornly, Dean refused to succumb to what his body really yearned for, slouching as he tried to conceal the pain of his intestines. However, one particular twist of his insides had him clutching his gut and grinding his teeth. 

Well, time to go. 

Dean left his abandoned beer and made a couple staggering steps down the hall towards the door before almost running into someone, on their way out of the bathroom. 

The overwhelming scent of Castiel surrounded him. 

Shit. 

Dean had done his best to nonchalantly avoid him the whole party. They had exchanged a few words at dinner, but for the most part Dean had been preoccupied meeting all of Sam's friends and even becoming friends (although begrudgingly) with Gabriel, who turned out to be... Not so bad. He was actually kind of funny. 

Not that Dean hadn't been paying attention to Castiel. Nearly the whole night, all of Dean's senses were pinpointed on the blue eyed wonder, completely perplexed every time he smiled, and transfixed on his gravelly voice. 

"Dean. Where are you going?" Castiel looked bewildered, confused, and even a little disappointed. Then the blue eyed boy looked down to where Dean was clutching his middle, and his face grew even more ridden with emotion. 

Dean knew his own face was already flushed hot with fever, but Castiel was not helping him cool down at all. Dean was hot all over... Castiel is too, Dean thought meekly. 

Dean quickly replied, "Not feeling well. Should'a headed home by now, don't you think?" The clock on the wall read 11:57. 

Castiel spotted the keys in his hand skeptically. "You're driving yourself? In this condition?" 

Dean scowled. Castiel crossed his arms, the large sleeves of his black sweater hiding his hands. Damn him for looking so good in that top, Dean couldn't help but think. 

"You should stay here. It would not be good for your wellbeing if you drove home alone." 

"...Fine," Dean said shortly. 

The two stood alone, and Dean felt like he was getting sucked into the abyss of Castiel's hella blue eyes. Dean finally looked away, leaning from his left foot to his right restlessly. 

"Uhh... So, how are you... doing?" 

"I am doing well, Dean." 

"Do your stitches hurt?" 

Castiel shook his head. "No. They hurt earlier, but I believe it's less inflamed now." 

"Oh... Cool then, I guess. Glad you're okay." 

Silence ensued, and the sound of explosions sounded from the movie in the other room. 

"Uhh..." 

Castiel was staring at him. Like, REALLY staring at him. Maybe even staring through him. Dean looked over his shoulder just in case. 

Dean coughed not once, but twice before Castiel finally broke out of his trance, and suddenly the other looked really, really tired. 

"Sorry, Dean. Let's go watch the rest of the movie." 

Before he could protest or ask Cas what the hell that had been about, Dean was being ushered back into the living room. Castiel pointed to an empty arm chair, and Dean reluctantly settled in it, willing his own aches and pains to go away. 

Dean had only just closed his eyes to rest when something brushed up against his leg and nudged the chair a bit. 

Castiel was sitting on the ground, with his back resting against Dean's chair, his right shoulder barely brushing Dean's left leg. 

And all too tantalizing, sitting there innocently, was Castiel's head full of messy dark hair, practically begging to be pet, and beyond that, his pale and slender neck and exposed shoulder tops. 

Dean did his very best to pay attention to the movie, but it was nearly impossible every time Castiel fidgeted closer to him. 

Dean shot a look to everyone piled in the rest of the room- Ash was sitting on the arm of the three person couch, and next to him on the couch corner was Jo. Dean got along with them best out of all of Sam's friends. 

Practically laying on top of Jo was Charlie, already dozing off. Charlie was probably the coolest person he had met, Dean decided. She was hilarious and stubborn, but brave and ready to punch life in the face. 

And then there was Meg, who was sitting on the other side of the room on a floor bean bag, with her phone plugged into the wall, texting away happily.

Finally, Dean looked to his brother and tried to hold back a snort of laughter. Sam was sitting rigidly next to Charlie, with Gabriel's legs across his lap. The trickster was leaning up against the other arm of the couch, making snide remarks about the movie, seeming all too happy to be splayed across Sam. 

Gabriel had been practically torturing his brother the whole evening- following him around, poking at him, and standing awfully close to him every minute of the evening- but after Dean had finally come to the conclusion that Gabriel was a-okay, he sat back to enjoy the show. 

Of course, Dean would have to hunt Gabriel down and give him the whole 'if you ever hurt my brother' talk, but for now, things seemed mostly harmless. 

Still, Dean could help but feel worried for his brother. He knew, despite looking like Gabriel had pulled him through hell and back this evening, that Sam would develop feelings for the short, energetic fellow. 

That is, if he hadn't already. 

But there was no way they could ever be a thing, not with Sam's condition... He wouldn't be able to hide it forever. Not from someone he was close to. 

Kind of hypocritical to think, when Dean felt his heart nearly stop as Castiel finally rested his cheek on Dean's knee as if it was a pillow, and let out a tiny sigh. 

Fuck. 

With one more anxious look around the room, Dean couldn't help it. Biting his lip and wondering if this was a bad idea, he raised his hand and gently ran it through Castiel's (mother effing) soft hair. 

Upon initial contact, Castiel tensed a bit in shock. 

"What're you doing?" Castiel whispered, yet didn't move away. 

"Sorry, it's just sticking up everywhere..."  
Dean carded his fingers once more, a bit more cautiously this time, holding his breath all the while. 

Castiel practically melted into his hand by the third stroke. 

By the sixth, Castiel had closed his eyes and leaned back against Dean's legs with his head resting on his knee. 

On the twelfth, Castiel was dozing off. 

On the nineteenth, the movie had ended, and nearly everyone was asleep. Ash had gotten comfy on the floor, and Jo and Charlie dominated the couch in a softly snoring pile. Sammy was wedged into the corner, looking very still in his slumber. 

Meg was still playing on her phone, but kept yawning. 

And Gabriel (fucking asshole) was waggling his eyebrows at him, joined with Meg by the phone chargers. 

Dean flipped him off. 

\---

 

\--

 

-

 

\--

 

\---

 

"You two take the barn, I'll search the rest of the property. You go in, you get out. If there are any vamps, take them out quick. Meet me back at the house to take care of the rest." 

Despite being drunk off his ass, John Winchester surprisingly sobered up at the prospect of the hunt. 

Sam was still pissed about the whole thing. Hunting vampires? At NIGHT?? His father had to be insane. Dean seemed indifferent at the idea, ready to follow Dad's orders until the end. Sam scoffed at the thought, but nevertheless, gripped his machete tightly and made sure his dead man's blood was easily reachable from his jacket pockets. 

They were in Washington state, a few miles away from some rag tag town they stopped at, practically bordering the coast. And despite Sam's pleas, their father refused to take them to the beach- said the weather was miserable in February, and that was that. 

Sam and Dean approached the barn as quietly as possible. Up on the far side of the hill, a house with its lights on stood miserably in the lightly misting coastal rain. They expected the vampires to be residing there, but their first mission was to save any survivors that may have been walled up somewhere hidden- like the suspicious barn in front of them. 

"Sam," Dean whispered, stopping him with an open hand before Sam could touch the handles. Sam turned so his back was to the barn, crossing his arms against his chest. "You haven't hunted vampires before, have you?" 

Sam looked at him quizzically, and then a blank look came over his face. "No, I guess not," Sam said back in a low voice. "But I know everything I need to know about them." 

Vampires had almost been hunted to extinction, and while the concept of the bloodsuckers was well known, stumbling across a nest was rare. He never at the chance to run in with the creatures- but he preferred it that way. 

"Well, let me give you a tip you can't learn from the books. You can't go into a nest with fear, Sammy. They say they can hear your heartbeat, especially when you're scared." 

Sam looked up at his bigger brother, almost sure he was joking, but Dean's face was shockingly serious. 

Sam pursed his lips, about to tell his brother he wasn't scared, when someone else's thick, drawling voice cut in. 

"Oh, sure, we can hear your panicky, pathetic little heartbeats about a mile away. But, you know, we might've mistaken you for a couple of field mice if you hadn't opened your dumb mouths and talked." 

For a second, Sam was alone with Dean, and in the next second, a large man was towering behind them- much too close for comfort. 

Dean jumped and whipped around, standing in front of his little brother as if to protect him. Sam clung so tight to his machete he thought he would never let go. 

In another blink, two more vampires appeared at the large man's sides. 

Even Dean was too frozen from shock to respond with one of his witty comments. 

"That's the thing about hunters. The nerve of you guys! Two pitiful kids, taking on a nest full of vampires in the middle of the night?" The vampire laughed, a cruel, jarring sound. Although a twinge of hope stirred in Sam's chest- they didn't seem to know their father was with them.

However, all hope was snuffed out as the leader grunted some kind of command, because suddenly the two vampires were on Sam and Dean, disarming and overpowering them shamefully. 

Sam squirmed as hot, rotten breath warmed his throat, refusing to succumb without a fight. He managed to wrestle himself free, sprinting a few steps away before something smacked the back of his head, sending him flying into the ground. 

For a second, he could only see black, but then he felt someone grasping his hair and dragging him back to the barn. His vision returned just to see his brother's limp body on the ground. 

"Dean!!" Sam let out a scream, struggling to get to his brother. Once again, Sam was whacked over the head, and he fell to the ground with a heavy thud. 

"Man. What a nuisance," the vampire above him scoffed. "What do you want us to do with them, Blake? Blood bags or recruitment?" 

Sam slowly brought himself to his knees, blinking rapidly to try and will his vision back, and the ache out of his head. 

Blake looked thoughtful. "Well... because since you and Matt been so good lately, why don't you each grab a bite from 'em?"

The two vampires let out happy whoops, and Sam felt positively sick. 

"Then what, boss?" Matt asked excitedly. 

"Send the scrawny one to me for recruitment once you're done. Get as many blood bags as you can out of the other one without offing him. We need to make him last a bit longer if we don't want to raise any more suspicion." 

Matt and the other vampire nodded dutifully, and Sam feebly grasped at the hands that were dragging him backwards into the barn. 

Fiery adrenaline rushed through Sam's system as the monster barely waited a second before pouncing on Sam, pinning him down with his suffocating weight and plunging his fangs wherever he could land on a struggling Sam, which just so happened to be the rounded part of his right shoulder. 

Sam finally went limp, letting the vampire push his head against the ground and take long, painful drags from his shoulder. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes, but Sam forced himself to calm down. 

He couldn't waste his energy. He would use his head. He needed to help Dean, find John, and get the hell out of there. 

Despite running these words through his head a hundred times over, Sam couldn't stop trembling, wheezing, and gasping with uncontrolled breaths as the rancid man on top of him took him for all he had. 

They would get out of here. 

It will all be over soon. 

He just had to survive. 

It'll all be over s o o n...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OoOOoO im not a ghost I'm just so sorry for the (somewhat) cliffie and sadness ;-; I PROMISE I will make it up in the next chapter! Seriously! Here is a hint: ONE OF OUR COUPLES WILL KISS! O: but who will it be? And how??? Stay tuned for days to come! 
> 
> Goodnight Everybody!  
> NappingStabbingBlooking


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